Thrown Away
by Cleo2010
Summary: Captain Brass is working in Scranton, Pennsylvania on day shift when he's called out to investigate a dead body behind Poor Richards Pub.   This is primarily an Office fic set in season three just after The Return. The lovely Brass is my guest star.
1. Prologue: Dumpster Diving

**So this is what I've been working on now Breathless is on once a week updates. **

**Firstly I need to thank forgetmenotjimmy who wrote a brilliant Office fic called 'Roy's Decision' which I encourage you to read if you haven't already (rated M so adjust your searches). I'd already had a plan down for a similar concept though it's a very different story and reading Jimmy's contribution inspired me to actually write mine. I hope you like it Jimmy! **

**It's set just after The Return in season three. It's rated M for language and violence. This is very much an Office fanfic with a CSI twist. I will warn you that if you're not into character death then this might not be the story for you. No one is guaranteed to make it to the end of this story but no one is guaranteed to die either. There wouldn't be a sense of danger and drama if you knew that everyone would be ok at the end of the day. This is the first time I've written something like this and I'd like to do a full blown CSI fic eventually.**

**That's enough explanation, enjoy!**

* * *

**Prologue: Dumpster Diving**

Brass pulled up just outside the crime scene tape that bisected the parking lot of the bar and braced himself for the blast of chilly January air that waited outside of his gloriously warm car. It had been too many years since he'd weathered an east coast winter and he was older now. At least he was working day shift and got to see daylight for a change. That was a huge perk of his move to Pennsylvania.

He mustered up the courage and head out into the cold, not before buttoning up his wool coat as far as it could go. He'd gotten a call half an hour ago about a dead body found round the back of Poor Richards Pub. It was a place he'd frequented a couple of times but he preferred a place called DJs for his post-shift scotch. As he approached on foot he noticed an ambulance on scene.

"Sergeant?" He called to a police officer, flashing his badge. The Sergeant looked barely twenty-five years old though he was likely older. He was blue eyed and bushy tailed at 7am, probably without the aid of caffeine either.

"Sergeant Collins. Captain Brass?" Plumes of steamy breath swirled out of his mouth as he spoke, highlighting the chill in the air. It was one of those dark, grey mornings where it felt like the sun would never completely rise.

"That's me. Are there injuries?" Brass gestured toward the ambulance.

"No sir, just turns out the DB wasn't as dead as people thought. He's a real mess though, I don't blame them for thinking he was dead."

Brass watched as the victim was wheeled by on a gurney draped in a survival blanket. His face was mangled, bruised, grazed and cut with strange circular patterns. His eyes swollen shut and clumps of hair torn out leaving raw patches of scalp and the rest of his hair was matted with blood. Not even his own mother would recognise him like that. At least one of his arms was obviously broken and covered in bruises and the same distinctive welts and crescent shaped cuts that covered his face. It looked like he'd been attacked with a weapon of some sorts, maybe fists and feet too, he'd have to wait for the victim to be processed before he knew for sure. It was the worst beating he'd seen for a while. Brass couldn't tell what race the guy was due to the blood and bruising. All he knew was that the guy was tall.

"Any ID on the vic?"

"No sir, he was naked when they found him, the rest of him looks the same as his face. Some guy really went to town on him."

"Sexual assault?"

"Don't know with all the blood and bruising everywhere. Have to wait on an SAE."

"Witnesses?"

"Afraid not, sir."

Brass was withholding judgement but that extent of the injuries suggested this was personal, maybe to more than one person. Going by basic investigating principles Brass gestured to two men in garbage collection uniforms. First to find the body, first suspects.

"Those the guys who found him?"

"Yes sir, he was in the dumpster."

Brass watched the ambulance doors slam shut. He knew from the look the paramedic gave him that this would likely become a homicide before they even reached the hospital. "Show me where they found him."

Brass was led round to an alley at the back of the pub. Brass noticed the lamp above them was shattered. There was no glass on the ground so it wasn't broken recently.

"Security cameras?"

"No sir, Poor Richards doesn't get that much trouble. Usually a mix of blue and white collar office workers, no one on a real good pay check but nice people none the less." Sergeant Collins was a local, born and bred in Scranton. Brass nodded, with no security footage his job was getting harder by the second.

The sergeant pointed at an empty space by an unemptied dumpster. "This is where the dumpster was."

"So... where's the dumpster now?"

"Over with the garbage truck. The victim, uh, fell out when they emptied it."

"Just when you're thinking you're having a bad day it gets worse."

"Do you think this was just a body dump, there's no blood."

"Didn't you hear the storm last night? If he was beaten in this alley we couldn't tell after rain like that. And if you're going to dump a body, you do it somewhere less public. Hopefully the CSIs can find us something. That beating had to have been messy." Brass scanned the scene. Apart from the dumpster the garbage men hadn't gotten to, some trash and a few empty beer crates, the dirty alley was empty. He turned back to the young Sergeant. "Make sure no one touches the dumpster and this one too, there could be dumped evidence and finger prints. Impound the truck too. We're going to need all the evidence we can get."

"Yes sir." The Sergeant Collins left to guard the dumpster and Brass found his way to the two garbage men. He sized them up; the older of the two was greying, balding and overweight. He was standing with his hands on his hips and looking impatient and not feeling the cold at all. His younger colleague looked skinny and deathly pale, his dark hair scruffily poking out of a woollen hat. He couldn't have been more than nineteen years old.

"You found the victim?"

"Yeah." Gruffed the older man, the younger one nodded. Brass took out his note book and pen.

"Your names, please?"

"Eugene Wallis." Said the elder. "This is Zachary, my son." Brass didn't see the resemblance but that was probably lucky on Zachary's part. Eugene looked like he hadn't seen much time indoors.

"How did you find the victim?"

"I-I-I found him first." Stuttered the son. He was looking paler still.

"Not gonna puke again are you, boy?" His father stood back a step. Brass did the same.

"I'm fine." He swallowed hard and took a deep breath. "Uh, you want to know everything?"

"Yes, detail is important, just don't blow your chunks in my direction if you've gotta."

"Ok, well I pulled out the dumpster and hooked it up. My dad was grabbing the bottles for recycling because we do that too. Anyway, I pressed the button and the dumpster got lifted and tipped and the guy just... fell out. At first I didn't really know what I saw so I looked in and there he was. Face up, not moving, looking all naked and dead. I mean there was loads of blood, the guy looked like..." The boy dashed away and started retching over a drain.

"I think I've got the idea. So who called the police?"

"I did." Said Eugene, exhibiting his authority. "I had a look too, didn't seem the need to check, he looked pretty dead so that's what I told the dispatcher."

Zachary returned having regained his composure, trying to hold himself as upright as he could.

"You seen the guy before?"

"I might have, but who could tell?" Eugene shrugged and lit a cigarette. Brass understood. So far the two men appeared to be innocent bystanders.

"It was fucked up man." Zachary was starting to pace.

"Watch your mouth, boy." Snapped Eugene, grabbing his son by the arm. Zachary muttered an apology and settled down again.

"Do you think he'll be ok? It was freezing last night what with the storm too." Eugene asked.

"The medical staff will do their best."

Brass took their contact information and informed them that their truck was being impounded as evidence. Eugene put up a fight but relented, it was part of a potential homicide now. Brass finished the interview in time for the CSI's to arrive, hopefully they'd find something. An ID would be a good starting point; hopefully this guy's fingerprints would be in the system.


	2. Chapter 1: Empty Desks

**Chapter One: Empty Desks**

Pam settled at her desk on the dot of nine am. Another Monday and another week at Dunder Mifflin. She looked fondly over at Jim's desk and then to the hole that still hadn't been patched up since Andy's outburst. She really felt like she'd made some headway with Jim through that prank, even if it had gotten a little out of hand. For the first time since he'd returned she'd felt close to him again. It wasn't enough, but it was something. Just to see him that happy again and being a reason for that smile kept her cheerful all weekend. She had hope.

People were still drifting in, the frigid morning made everyone move slower except Dwight who was once again at his desk, arranging everything just as it was before his brief foray into the job market. Pam would have paid money to see him in a Staples uniform and she briefly wondered if he had a photo ID taken. If only she could get her hands on that it would make her week.

The office was buzzing a little with discussion of the email about Andy's leave of absence that had circulated that morning. Pam felt a little guilty but she was looking forward to discussing the fallout with Jim, hopefully away from Karen. It was a little sneaky, but Jim was more like his old self when she wasn't about. With Oscar having returned from his six week long break too everything was back to normal.

By 9.20am the only two people still missing were Jim and Karen and neither of them had called. Pam felt her mood dampen and thought about Jim and Karen making it a long weekend, keeping each other warm in bed, drinking hot chocolate and eating croissants. Somehow that's what she'd pictured Karen liking. She'd be the first to know to; they had to call in sick to her. Pam got on with her usual Monday morning duties until she was interrupted by Toby weakly clearing his throat in front of her desk, facing the office.

"Uh, can I have, um, your attention?" He murmured. No one paid any attention. "Excuse me, can I have your attention." A little louder this time but still nothing.

Pam gave him a nudge and a nod of encouragement. "Go for it."

"Hey!" He shouted. The office fell silent and Pam felt a little proud. Even Michael emerged scowling from his office. "Can I have everyone's attention for a moment?" His voice was still weak but a little louder. "Uh, I've been asked to inform you all that Karen had a family emergency over the weekend and has been granted permission to leave Dunder Mifflin effective immediately to join her family business in Connecticut." Whispers and speculation filled the air but Pam had only one question which she promptly blurted out loud.

"Has Jim gone with her?" She felt nauseous, she couldn't lose him again. She didn't care what people thought. She couldn't lose him again.

"Not as far as I'm aware." Toby said casually before muttering under his breath. _"He usually gets what he wants though."_ Pam didn't have time to react to his bitter remark before he asked her a question "Has he not called in?"

"No, but if he's sick or something he might not be awake." Pam tried not to show the worry on her face but the sympathetic look Phyllis was shooting her told her she wasn't doing a very good job. Without a second thought Pam picked up the phone and dialled Jim while Michael berated Toby for not telling him first and calling him a home wrecker. Toby had argued back about sending him an email but Pam was good at tuning that out. There was no answer at Jim's apartment or on his cell. She tried Karen. No answer either.

She tapped her pen nervously on the desk and double checked her voice mails thinking that maybe she'd accidently skipped over Jim's message. There was nothing. She checked the appointment book in case he had a sales call but it was blank and so was the rest of the week. It was still early in the day, plenty of time for Jim to call or show up a little late. Maybe Karen was supposed to pass on a message? That wouldn't explain why he wasn't answering his calls, unless he explained that in the message. Her stomach was in knots. She switched from tapping her pen to chewing on the end. She'd devoured half the pen in the next hour.

Her favourite possibility she pictured was Jim and Karen breaking up. She almost felt bad for wishing that Jim was drowning his sorrows but once his heart had healed maybe there would be a chance for them. She could bide her time if that was the case. She just hoped he hadn't gone with her to Connecticut, that thought alone made her feel sick to her stomach. They were finally rebuilding their friendship and things were so much better. If he left it would really be final this time. Karen was beautiful, smart and she had a career, Jim had every reason to go. Pam was still a receptionist even with her art classes. She wondered if perhaps he was still making up his mind. If she could just get a hold of him she could persuade him to stay, maybe even give him a good reason to stay too. The fear of losing him again was making her brave.

Pam had remained lost in her own thoughts all day. Lunch was a painful experience as everyone had chosen to discuss Jim and Karen rather than Andy being forced into anger management. It was the juicier slice of gossip. The general consensus was that Jim was taking the day to decide whether to follow Karen and that he probably would. Pam's heart felt like it had broken a hundred times that day. She could barely think of a reason why Jim would want to stay. His empty desk had been taunting her all day and Karen's desk wasn't helping either. She'd even resorted to talking cats with Angela just to take her mind off things.

At 5pm there had been no sight or sound of Jim. Pam tried calling again from home and even sent a couple of friendly emails but still at midnight there were no replies.

Maybe tomorrow.


	3. Chapter 2: Hair and Sticky Tape

**Chapter Two: Hair and Sticky Tape**

Pam got in early the next morning and opened up. She'd not slept well, her mind consumed with Jim. Every time she drifted off to sleep she relived a variation of that day she found out Jim had transferred to Stamford except this time he was leaving hand in hand with Karen, a shining diamond ring that looked just like her old one on her left hand with a promise that he'd never return. His last words to her were that she was too late. Then she'd wake up almost hyperventilating and close to tears.

Now she was back behind her station, checking her voice mail but there was still no message from Jim. She didn't know what she'd do if he didn't show up today. She tried his home phone again, perhaps the frequency of her calls was becoming borderline stalkerish but Jim had always called in when he took a sick day or a personal day. Then again, she didn't know how he handled a broken heart.

Actually she did. He left.

Dwight arrived ten minutes after her, skulking through the door. "Did you open up?" He snapped.

"No Dwight, I've developed the power to walk through doors." She replied wearily, she really wasn't in the mood to play today.

"You're here early." He made it sound like he was accusing her of something.

"Couldn't sleep." She yawned.

"You should try goats milk straight from the udder, it's already warmed." Dwight suggested. Pam's stomach turned but he'd actually suggested it like he was trying to be helpful so she let  
it slide.

"Thank you Dwight, I'll remember that for next time or maybe I'll try cow's milk in the microwave."

"If you like to stress your system with that much lactose that late at night." He responded sarcastically. "Did Jim call?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"Because from your frantic dialling of his number repeatedly and inability to complete the most basic tasks I assume he didn't call in yesterday."

"No. He didn't. And he hasn't."

Dwight wrote something down in a note book he pulled out of his back pocket and left for his desk without another word. Pam figured he'd start an investigation but it would keep him out of her hair until Jim showed up. He couldn't miss two days of work without telling anyone why, he'd end up with a note in his file. Not that Jim cared about his job but he was always thoughtful like that, he wouldn't want anyone to worry or make a fuss.

At the dot of 12pm after the longest morning of her life there was still no sign of Jim. Pam grabbed her coat and handbag and made her escape. She was really worried. She ran down the stairs to her car only to be cut off by Dwight who'd bolted out of the back exit.

"It's my lunch hour, Dwight."

"I... know..." he panted and swiped some sweat off his brow with the sleeve of his coat. "You're going to... Jim's apartment?"

"Why do you care? You've had a day and a half Jim free!" She snapped. Dwight was wasting her time.

"I'm coming..." Ew, she thought. "...with you."

"Again. Why?"

"Jim always calls. He's lazy, a slacker, a worse salesman, unkempt, deviant-"

"Get to the point, Dwight."

"He always calls. I've opened an investigation, something stinks and I want to know what it is."

"You're worried about him?"

"Hardly. I might find reason that not only he'll get fired he'll never work in this town again." His grin slithered across his face like a snake but she wasn't entirely sure if she believed him. "We're wasting time. We can go in my Trans Am."

Pam hesitated but she was running low on gas so she took Dwight up on his offer.

It didn't take long to reach Jim's apartment. Pam lit up when she spotted Jim's car but Dwight informed her that the car hadn't moved since yesterday. It wasn't a surprise to Pam that Dwight had checked up on him the day before. She felt bad that she hadn't. Dwight double checked the odometer against the mileage note he'd made and he was right, the car hadn't been anywhere. The mood was ominous as they walked silently to the third floor. Pam approached the door to knock when Dwight put an arm across and stopped her.

"Dwight, what are you doing?" It felt weird to have him touch her but there had been method to his madness so far.

"Look." Dwight bent down. "Come here."

Pam crouched down by Dwight.

"What am I looking for? Signs of a break in?"

"I taped one of my hairs between the door and the frame." Dwight pointed and Pam could see the tape and one Dwight coloured hair. "It's unbroken which means no one has entered or left this apartment since yesterday at 12:13pm."

Pam was ready to be shocked that Dwight had employed some sort of spying tactic but that information was really useful. She actually found herself nodding in appreciation.

Dwight continued. "Also wherever he went he was either given a lift or went on foot."

Pam reflected for a moment, Dwight seemed to be doing the same. "Did you do the same to Karen's? The hair thing."

"No need, her apartment is completely empty." Dwight stood and pulled out his notebook. "I spoke to her female landlord yesterday. Karen and her brother Tommy cleared the place out on Sunday and she hadn't seen Jim for a week." Dwight flipped his note book shut with a flick of his wrist and a look of satisfaction.

"Right. So what do we do now?"

"Do you know where his parents live?"

"Somewhere out by the quarry, I don't have an exact address. We can see who his emergency contact is."

"We're not allowed to look at personnel files." Dwight grinned and Pam found herself smiling back. They were plotting together.

"Well I guess if Toby were to be distracted with a conversation at reception someone might have time to look at the appropriate piece of paper. Maybe make a photocopy?"

"If we get back now Toby might still be on his lunch break."

"That's a better plan. Let's go."

They got back in time to find Toby eating lunch with Kelly and Creed. Pam joined them, making sure that Toby and Kelly were involved and invested in the conversation to give Dwight enough time to get the information. When Dwight came to the candy machine and bought a Baby Ruth she knew the job was done. It was their prearranged signal. A bag of skittles meant that there was a problem. She made her excuse after a few more minutes and left for reception where Dwight was using the fax machine.

"The number is on your desk, work, home and cell. Larissa Halpert. Sister. Lives out in Allentown."

"Good work. I'll call now." Pam handed Dwight some papers so he could keep pretending to fax. It was eerie how well they worked together and anticipated each other's next move. She just hoped Jim hadn't left so she could tell him about everything she went through just to see he was ok. Of course he was ok, just somewhere unreachable, maybe a little down, but ok.

Pam dialled the work number for Jim's sister, keeping her voice low so she wasn't overheard by anyone but Dwight.

"Larissa Halpert, how may I help you?" Came a cheerful and youthful voice.

"Hi Larissa, my name is Pam, I work with your brother at Dunder Mifflin."

"Pam, the receptionist, Pam?"

"Uh, yeah." Pam wasn't expecting Larissa to know who she was and her blood ran cold that maybe Jim's sister hated her. She should have let Dwight make the call.

"What do you want? Is my brother ok?" He tone was frosty but she was still concerned for her brother, Pam would just have to hope that would override any bad feeling. Pam didn't really want to have to argue her side of the story when Jim was out of contact. She refused to use the word missing, even in her own head, the connotations where too big.

"He's not shown up for work for two days and he's not called in either. I've tried calling all his contact numbers but there's no answer. I'm a bit worried." Pam left out the part about the apartment; she didn't want to explain how they knew he hadn't been home for at least a day.

"Well I haven't spoken to him for a week. I know he spoke to mom last Saturday. Listen, I'll make some calls and I'll get back to you. What's your number?" Pam gave Larissa her number and her cell too; she didn't want to miss her call. "Ok, Pam I'll find out where he's holed up and let you know he's ok."

"Thanks Larissa, I really, really appreciate it."

"I'm doing this to make sure Jim's ok, not for you, ok?" She was matter of fact, laying down the terms that this wasn't the start of becoming friendly acquaintances.

"Uh huh." Pam wanted to cry. She didn't like it when people disliked her, especially as it's because of something Jim must have said to her. Pam's hope of something more with Jim faded to a dim flicker once again.

They said goodbye and Pam hung up. "She's going to make some calls and get back to me."

"Good. Give me the signal when she calls."

"Sure."

Dwight disappeared back to his desk and Pam sat nervously chewing another pen, willing the phone to ring with good news.

An hour passed when the phone rang, this time without a paper related query.

"Dunder Mifflin this is Pam."

"It's Larissa." She sounded a little tearful. Pam gave Dwight the signal and moved her jellybeans left to right.

"Did you find Jim?"

"No." Pam shook her head at Dwight who had his note book out again. "I called round; the last person to see him was his friend Mark on Sunday night. I can't find anyone who's spoken or seen him since then. Can you go check his apartment for me please?" Larissa was getting more upset and panicked.

"Dwight and I have already been there two days running, he's not been home and his car is there."

"Oh god, this is something to worry about, isn't it? He, uh, broke up with that girl, Karen whatserface."

"Filippelli." Pam was writing down what Larissa was telling her so Dwight could read it. She was tempted to draw a smiley face when she heard that Jim had broken up with Karen, even if Larissa was reluctant to part with such personal information.

"Shit. I, uh, what do I do now, report him missing? God, what if he's done something stupid?"

"Don't worry, Jim wouldn't do that." She felt her tears rise up again hearing Jim's sister worry about suicide. She couldn't believe Jim would do that, he hadn't shown any signs of depression but just the mention made it feel too real. "Gimme one second, just gonna ask for advice about missing persons, I know a sheriffs deputy." She covered up the phone with one hand. "Can Larissa report him missing yet?"

"Not been forty-eight hours. I'm going to make some calls."

Pam uncovered the receiver. She knew what Dwight was doing; he was calling his contacts at the police station and maybe the local hospitals too.

"He's not been missing long enough yet. Me and Dwight are going to do some more asking around, maybe I can get a hold of Karen."

"Oh, yeah, that would be good. Jesus, he's never done this before, he always answers if it's me."

"I'm sure he's fine, just mending a broken heart."

"Yeah, well he turned to me last time his heart got broken." Larissa remarked bitterly, knowing full well who she was speaking to. It stung but it was meant to.

"Do you want me to call this number if I find anything out?"

"Yeah. If it's after five call me on my cell it's..."

"Oh, I have that too, it's on Jim's emergency contact sheet."

"I'm Jim's emergency contact? Huh, guess I am more level headed than mom but I don't think I'm doing too hot right now."

"Well we don't know exactly how much to worry." Pam comforted but she saw Dwight writing furiously, his face a picture of concern she hadn't seen before. "I'll call you if I find out anything."

"Or if you don't. Maybe I'll try calling round some hospitals." She sniffed and her voice broke a little. "He always answers."

Dwight was back at her desk looking grave. "Hold off for a few more hours, I'm going to make those calls now. I'll speak to you soon."

They said their goodbyes and hung up. Dwight started speaking as soon as the receiver hit the cradle.

"We need to leave. Now."

"Why? Where?"

"A John Doe matching Jim's description was brought in yesterday morning. Mercy Hospital. They couldn't promise anything, said the man was badly injured so they could only make a vague match to my perfect description, mostly height and hair colour."

Pam let a tear fall this time but didn't make a sound. Jim could be lying in a hospital as some John Doe with no one at his bedside to hold his hand. It also meant he hadn't been conscious since he was brought in.

"Come on." Dwight chided. Pam grabbed her coat again. Dwight burst into Michael's office to tell him he was going on a sales call and taking Pam because the buyer liked wholesome looking girls and Phyllis was old and decrepit. Michael agreed and they found themselves together in Dwight's Trans Am for the second time that day.

* * *

**I hope that you are all enjoying this different type of Office story. It's been a challenge to write (I'm a few chapters ahead) and I'm having fun, I just hope you are too! **


	4. Chapter 3: Processing

**Chapter Three: Processing**

Brass swiped his ID card and passed through the metal detectors in the crime lab entrance hall. The lab was much smaller and less well equipped than the Vegas lab but it suited the needs for Scranton and the local area. He made his way to the third floor to meet the lead CSI on the John Doe beating. Fingerprints and DNA had turned up no matches to identify the victim but with any luck he'd have a name or a lead soon.

Brass found the CSI for his case in the cramped layout room working on a car accident that had happened that morning. Jennifer Fisher, a thirty-four year old former Seattle resident who'd settled in Scranton after meeting her husband at an entomology conference led by one Gil Grissom. She was far too good for this town, she could easily work the night shift in Vegas but she'd chosen to have a life as well as a job. Even twenty years her senior he was disappointed to see a wedding ring on the slim, petite, raven haired woman. She was also the only person he worked with who used his first name. She was making a diagram of the accident, marking each set of skid marks. Her abundance of dark hair was tied in a loose chignon with a pencil poking out of one side.

"Hey Jim, be right with you, wanna get a run down in the break room? I'm jonesing for some green tea and there's not much space in here."

"Sure, I'll meet you there, but I'll be drinking something that doesn't taste like grass."

"Yeah, you'll be drinking the same mud that everyone else does. Grass sounds much more appetising." She grinned but hadn't taken her dark brown eyes off the layout table, her gaze darting between the crime scene sketch and the large diagram.

Brass could hardly argue with the state of the coffee but his visits were brief and even out of Vegas a half decent coffee store wasn't that far away. He left but he wasn't alone in the break room for long when Jennifer strode in a prepared her tea.

"I've only got a partial report for you and no ID." She began, she had a no nonsense approach to her work but you could never describe her as humourless. In a way she reminded him of Catherine back in Vegas.

"I'll take what you've got." Brass took a sip of coffee and pulled a face. It was truly vile. Jennifer chuckled softly before taking a seat next to Brass and placed a file on the table.

"Well it looks like the alley is your crime scene. We found blood spatter matching your vic under the eaves of the roof."

Brass's eyebrows raised in surprise. "That was what, thirty feet up?"

"Thirty two feet at its highest point and plenty of it too. Your weapon was really swinging to get that much blood up there. We also found blood traces in a few cracks in the concrete and some on the fence opposite the building but the rain took care of most of the blood. We also found a clump of hair and skin stuck to the brick wall, his head made contact with the building at some point during the struggle."

"Anything in the dumpsters?"

"Nothing probative so far but we're still combing through for hairs and fibres. We might still find something for trace but there were no fingerprints either. We did find a handprint from your vic on the inside of the lid, he tried to get out at some point. The rest of the blood was smeared from when the dumpster was emptied. Poor guy, even if he had it coming." She shook her head and sipped at her tea. "Mmm, sure you don't want some Brass?" She let her words ooze because she already knew the answer.

"I'm good with the mud. You mentioned a weapon?"

"Yep, your perp favoured a lug wrench." Jennifer pulled out some photographs of the victim from the manila file. Even with the blood cleaned off his skin was discoloured with bruises. Each of the photos showed the distinctive markings repeated, often overlapping. Face, arms, legs, chest. Everywhere was covered in circular and crescent shaped wounds. "We could extrapolate from the marks left on the body that the wrench used was specific to a large size of lug nut, typically found on trucks or SUVs. From the defensive wounds and height of the spatter, it was probably a curved bar lug wrench, not a cross four-way." She pointed to long bruises about an inch wide on his forearms. It looked like he'd tried to protect his head or block the blows.

"So we have a weapon to look out for. Anything else?"

"Yeah, your perp stamped on your vic after he was stripped of his top. The surgeon had the presence of mind to take a picture before they had to operate on his abdomen. We got a clear boot print, size ten." Jennifer took out the photo, it was small but the shoe print was visible. "I'll get a better version to you soon. We've been prioritising the DNA and the print tech is working on the earlier pile up."

"Any foreign DNA?"

"Nothing but again, we've still got to completely process the dumpsters which will take another twelve hours at least. There was nothing under the vic's fingernails and with all the treatment and sterilisation for surgery there was little to take swab wise. They did an SAE an hour ago. Negative."

Brass was relieved; the guy had been through enough. He choked down some more coffee and saw started to find the weird smell of green tea more appealing. Jennifer flicked through some more papers in the file, her tongue stuck out the side of her mouth with concentration.

"Tox was also negative with a zero blood alcohol level, but even if he had been at the bar he probably sobered up by morning."

"Well he wouldn't have been the first to do that in a dumpster."

Jennifer snorted a sarcastic laugh, inelegant but it was one of her quirks he'd noticed in his first week in Scranton. She'd ruffle up her nose too, like she used to wear glasses regularly. It endeared her to him.

"I spoke to the doctor who treated him a few hours ago to get the picture of the boot print. The vic had an open head fracture but if the blood hadn't escaped he would have died in the first half hour from the pressure on his brain."

"Guess it was his lucky day." He remarked dryly.

"Yeah, he would have died if he wasn't in the dumpster either. The shelter got him through the night."

"Doubly lucky." He deadpanned.

"He's still got massive brain swelling, facial fractures that'll require reconstruction, smashed teeth probably from the lug wrench, fractured ulna and radius in his right arm, broken collar bone, several cracked or broken ribs, internal bleeding, broken fingers, broken leg, his right patella was split in two." Brass winced; he knew how much that hurt from experience. "The pre-lim medical report is in there but there will be more developments. Right now he's on a ventilator and each hour is a bonus."

"Ok, so we know the suspect used a lug wrench so it was a weapon close to hand considering they were in or near the parking lot. Something set the guy, or guys, off so it wasn't premeditated." Brass leafed through more photos of the injuries. With the victim's face as battered as it was and both his eyes swollen shut it was unlikely anyone would recognise him from a photograph. So far his canvassing at the bar turned up nothing but when you're asking about a tall, white brown haired guy between the ages of 18 and 39 you're not going to get much of a response. "It looks like the suspect kept going long after our John Doe lost consciousness."

"Personal? Out of control rage fuelled by alcohol? Mugging gone wrong?"

"Maybe the first two but it's not a mugging. Look how much attention he spent on the face, it's gotta be personal. Also, if you're going to mug a guy, why strip him? Why keep hitting him and risk getting caught?"

"Makes sense. Not a mugging. So, do you think it was just one guy?"

"One weapon but I wouldn't rule out more than one just yet." Brass still had little to go on.

"Any witnesses turn up?"

"No." He sighed. "And all the cars in the parking lot were accounted for too."

"We're still working on it, Jim; we'll conjure something up with our magic science." She smiled warmly and gave him a pat on the forearm.

"Well if you could start on the coffee that would be a start." He gave up on the cup and pushed it away.

"I work magic, not miracles."

Brass started to chuckle when his phone rang. He quickly took the call and then hung up.

"A new lead?" Jennifer cocked an eyebrow inquisitively.

"Two people are coming to see our guy down at the hospital."

"You better get down there; I'll call you if we get anything new."

* * *

**CSI: Scranton, it'll be the next franchise I'm sure.**


	5. Chapter 4: ID

**Chapter Four: ID**

Pam gripped her hands tighter but it didn't stop the shaking. She found it strangely comforting when Dwight put his arm around her shoulder. He was still at a distance but a touch was a little of what she needed to get through the next few minutes. They'd hardly said a word to each other since they left the business park; they both knew what they were here to do. Pam didn't know if she'd prefer it to be him and know that he was hurt but alive or to still not know.

They were waiting for the doctor in a couple of plastic chairs outside the Intensive Care Unit. Pam watched as doctor and nurses passed through ICU door, each time scanning their ID card. Occasionally a drawn looking family member would press the button for the intercom and be buzzed through. It was so much quieter than other times Pam had visited the hospital, not screaming babies or the bustle of the emergency room. Each minute sat there waiting felt like a day. She thought about Larissa and whether she should call but Dwight had made sense, why worry his family unless there was something to worry about. He hadn't been missing forty-eight hours yet, it was still early.

Pam could feel her resolve no to cry beginning to crumble when a voice broke through her thoughts.

"Are you here to see the man brought in yesterday morning?" Asked an Asian man in a doctor's coat. He looked around forty years old, his jet black hair speckled with the occasional silver hair.

Dwight stood and so did Pam; she wanted to get this over and done with. She needed to know either way. "My name is Dwight Schrute and this is Pam Beesly and yes, we're here to see if it's Jim Halpert, H-A-L-P-E-R-T."

"Please sit for a moment." The doctor asked kindly and gestured to their seats. He grabbed another chair so he was sat opposite but out of the way of the general flow of people while Dwight and Pam sat back down in their original positions. "My name is Dr Khan. I've been overseeing the care of the victim since he was transferred to the ICU. I need to ask you a few questions first."

They both nodded and stayed silent. Pam squeezed her hands tighter still but the trembling wouldn't abate.

"Does your friend have any identifying marks, scars, birthmarks, tattoos or anything you'd consider distinctive."

Dwight was first to speak, cutting Pam off before she could utter a word. "He has two birthmarks. One shaped like kidney bean next to one shaped like a peanut on his left side just below his ribs." Pam gawked at Dwight, how could he know that? He must have read her expression when he explained. "I saw it the day we played basketball. Schrutes are very observant, it's essential for watching cattle."

"He's also got a scar on one of his knees, I can't remember which, but it's U-shaped and faded but you can still see it." Pam added, hoping it was helpful. "He doesn't have any tattoo's, he hates needles." She watched for the doctor's reaction but he was unmoved. She bit her lip hard, the stress was building.

"The man you are here to see has extensive injuries to his face and body. You may not recognise him; you might have to look at other parts you might be familiar with to identify him."

Pam felt Dwight tense beside her and she focused to draw in a breath. Her chest felt too tight to breathe.

"What happened?" She croaked. What could Jim have been through that they couldn't recognise his face?

"I'm afraid I can't tell you too much unless it's confirmed to be your friend but he has been beaten severely."

The sob came out of her whether she wanted it to or not. She thought that maybe he was in an accident; this was so much harder to take. Someone had hurt him. Dwight's rubbed her back soothingly but kept his eyes focused on the doctor.

"When you go in there will be many tubes and machines. He's on a ventilator to help him breathe, he's having a blood transfusion and he has an IV for fluids. He's got a bandage on his head due to surgery. We've also had to operate on his abdomen to stop some bleeding; you'll see a drain in place in his side." The doctor paused, giving them both a moment to process. "His arm and leg are in plaster and he's got severe bruising and cuts all over. He's still very swollen and although he's unconscious you should refrain from touching him. Do you feel ready to go through?"

"Yes." They both said simultaneously, rising from their seats with trepidation. With a nod from Dr Khan he scanned his ID card and led them to a large room with four beds. Nurses and doctors hovered around and Pam tried to spot anyone who looked vaguely like Jim. They were led to a bed in one of the far corners. Dr Khan turned back to them and gestured that they should step closer. She moved without thinking.

_Jim._

Pam knew that something was being said but she couldn't focus on the words. Nothing could have prepared her for this sight. "Oh god, how could someone do this to you?" She whispered under her breath. She couldn't stop staring at the sight of the tube in his mouth and the cuts in his lips until the tears made it too blurry to see.

"Yes, it's him." She heard Dwight say to Dr Khan. Pam wiped away her tears and tried to compose herself but it was a losing battle.

"Can you be sure this is your friend?"

"I'd recognise those ears anywhere." Dwight said in all seriousness.

Pam, in her moment of darkness, laughed. She turned back to Jim and walked a little closer. "Did you hear that Jim? Dwight recognised you from your ears alone." She smiled through her tears. "We've found you now; we'll let your family know, ok? It's gonna be alright." She had no idea if that was true but she said it anyway.

"I spend five days a week in sight of his left ear, I should know."

"Miss Beesly, are you also sure?"

Pam didn't turn to face the doctor when she answered. "I can see that dark freckle that hid in his sideburn; even through the bruising I can still see it. The shape of his eyebrows, they're so expressive, I can tell what he's thinking just by watching them. When his eyes aren't swollen you'll see that they are green, almost like a dark shade of jade."

"Very well. Do you have contact details for his family; we're going to need to confirm his identity through DNA."

"I have his sister's number, she expecting a call from me. Oh god."

"I'll take care of that. There's a detective on his way to see you, a Captain Brass, he'll have some questions for you."

"They haven't caught the assailant?" Asked Dwight with his usual off putting zeal. At least Pam was used to it and Dwight had found Jim. For all of his harshness she was grateful.

"Not as far as I know but I'll let Captain Brass handle your questions." Dr Khan took Larissa's details and showed them out to the hallway.

"Before you go." Pam grabbed the doctor's arm. "I know you can't tell us too much, but is he going to be ok?"

"He's not out of the woods yet but he's gotten this far."

"He-he might still die?" Please say no, please say no she pleaded with her eyes.

"He's still with us, you should focus on that, he's a fighter."

The doctor disappeared back into the ICU and Pam found herself being guided back to the chairs and Dwight's arm back around her as she sobbed into her hands.

"He'll be ok Pam."

"How do you know that?" She snapped, the anger felt easier than the all encompassing sadness she felt.

"Because he hasn't given up and neither should you. Schrutes don't give up, so Beeslys shouldn't either."

* * *

**Thanks to everyone who's taken the time to read this story so far. This is the first time I've ever ventured into this genre so any feedback is appreciated so I can improve future chapters. **


	6. Chapter 5: Leads

**First things first, enormous thanks to manicvirgilian, Pyrofanity and StarStrewn for your wonderful reviews, you have no idea how appreciated they are. I hope you enjoy this update bri****nging Brass up to speed and giving his John Doe a name.**

* * *

**Chapter Five: Leads**

Brass arrived outside the ICU and approached the older woman sat at reception. He'd met Joyce a few times since he started working in Scranton. With only one hospital he was getting to know the familiar faces.

"Hey Joyce. You had two people ID the John Doe?"

"Over there." She pointed at a tall gawky man in glasses and a petite woman with frizzy brown hair. Both of them work plain office clothes, though the man was wearing a short sleeved shirt in the freezing weather. "The sister and parents are on their way."

"Thanks. Can I borrow one of your rooms for some questions?"

"You can use the same one as last time just slide the sign to occupied." She gave him a tired smile and gathered up some charts.

"How's the vic?"

"Critical but stable for now. Still touch and go."

"Ok, thanks, Joyce."

Brass made his way towards the co-workers. On closer inspection he could see the woman's red rimmed eyes. He was used to interviewing people after a trip to the morgue, this made for a refreshing change. At least they might have a chance to say goodbye. They both looked up and saw the badge in his breast pocket.

"Detective Brass?" Asked the gentleman as he stood to attention. Brass could tell he was odder than the average already.

"Captain. You IDed the John Doe from Monday morning?"

"Yes." Said the man. "I'm Dwight Schrute, S-C-H-R-U-T-E and this Pamela Beesly, B-E-E-S-L-Y."

Brass nodded and noted their names. "I need to ask you a few questions, there's a room just down the hall."

The followed Brass and settled in two well padded chairs. This was one of the rooms doctors used to break bad news away from prying eyes.

"Can you tell me the full name of the victim?"

"James Duncan Halpert." Schrute pulled a note book from his back pocket and took out a sheet of paper. "This is his personnel sheet, date of birth, social security number, home address, everything you need to know."

"Uh thanks." Brass looked at the piece of paper, it had all the basic details he needed. Jim Halpert, twenty-six years old, local. He'd never met someone this prepared. "Ex-law  
enforcement?"

"Former sheriff's deputy." He said proudly, puffing out his chest.

"His name is Jim." Spoke the woman quietly. "No one knows him as James, he goes by Jim." She was wringing her hands nervously.

"That's helpful. You worked with him?"

"Yeah, he's a salesman like Dwight, I'm the receptionist. We're friends."

"Can you tell me if you know anyone who'd want to hurt Jim?"

"No. Everyone loved him."

Schrute snorted.

"Do you have something you want to share, Mr Schrute?" Brass asked facetiously.

The woman leapt to his defence before he had a chance to speak. "He and Jim had a love-hate relationship. He's going to be helpful from now on, _aren't you?"_ The last two words were  
spat through her teeth and aimed directly at her sheepish co-worker. Brass considered for a moment that they might be lovers.

"Does Jim have a girlfriend, boyfriend?"

"He had a girlfriend, they broke up this weekend. I found that out earlier today through his sister. Her name is Karen Filippelli. She worked with us too. She and Jim were salesmen at  
Dunder Mifflin a paper supplier."

Brass kept notes. A broken relationship seemed like the case breaker but he couldn't imagine a woman inflicting that much damage and being able to lift him into a dumpster.

"Do you have contact details for her? Or your work address?"

"She packed up and left this weekend." Beesly continued. "HR let us know that she had a family emergency and moved to Connecticut to join her family's business. Her brother helped her move, what was his name again Dwight?"

"Tommy Filippelli. Probably short for Thomas." The man read from his note book. Definitely a wannabe cop. Brass jotted down that name. Maybe Karen Filippelli had help.

"Any other women in his life?" Brass directed his question at the woman who seemed calmer now that she was helping and could give cogent answers.

"Jim's not the type to two-time." She said robustly. "I don't think Karen is either but I didn't know her terribly well." She didn't sound convinced, it was clear she wasn't fond of Karen.

"Do you know why they broke up?"

"No, but they were having lots of long talks. I think things were strained." Halpert's work colleagues were likely to only have a superficial idea of his life. He had secrets. Everyone has secrets.

"Any violence, shouting, bruises on either of them, anything like that?"

"No, never." She said flatly. The look on Schrute's face suggested he agreed as well.

"What about disgruntled clients? Insane ex-girlfriends? Anyone else likely to hold a grudge."

"No."

"When did you see the victim last?"

"We saw him last Friday at work but we found out he was with his friend Mark at Poor Richards on Sunday evening. I don't know his surname though. His sister will know, the nurse said she was on her way. She lives in Allentown but his parents are local. They'll be so upset." She started to tear up again and Schrute put his arm around her. It was an awkward gesture, maybe they were just work colleagues, their relationship wasn't that tactile.

"Yes, I'll speak to his parents soon; we want to confirm it's your friend through DNA too."

"Because he's so messed up, right? Do you know who'd do this? Jim's never hurt anyone. He's the most gentle and kind person I know." Brass found Schrute nodding in agreement.

"We're doing our best ma'am. Does Jim have any issues with alcohol, gambling, drugs, debt or any addictions?"

"No, he's just a normal guy. He plays basketball, holds down a steady job, he's smart and funny. I can't think of anyone who'd do... that... to him. Could it be random?"

"We're looking at every possibility. Is there anything else you can think to tell me? Maybe Jim mentioned he felt like he was being watched or was getting weird phone calls?"

"No. Seriously, everyone likes Jim. I mean Toby from work made a little comment but he can barely raise his voice, let alone a fist."

"What's his surname?"

"Oh Toby wouldn't-"

"Flenderson, F-L-E-N-D-E-R-S-O-N." Schrute spelt out the name emphatically.

"Dwight! Toby wouldn't hurt Jim."

"He's got to exhaust every lead."

"Don't worry ma'am, I was going to ask some questions at your office anyway. I think that's all, if you think of anything else here's my card."

"What caused those marks on him?" Asked the man, his beady eyes staring him down.

"I can't share details about the case without the family's consent."

"But we identified him; they didn't even know he was missing until we starting looking for him." He retorted back, his heckles raised.

"I'm sure his family will want to thank you. We need to free up this room."

The man shifted in his seat and conceded defeat. They both stood and Brass showed them out.

"Captain Brass." Called out a doctor he recognised as Dr Khan. "The parents are with your victim now, they identified him as Jim Halpert. I have a toothbrush for your lab too."

"I'll drive it over. Did the tall guy, Shrute, give you his details?"

"Yes, all his medical insurance information too, odd guy. Any leads regarding who did this?" The doctor spoke in his mixed accent of Pakistani and British, it took Brass a little while to figure  
it out when they first met.

"There's a friend who was at Poor Richard's with him that night and the girlfriend he broke up with that weekend."

"That friend is on his way too. The parents mentioned him."

"Good, send him my way if you can. There's also someone who wasn't that keen on him at work but that's not exactly what you'd call murderous rage."

"And this _was_ murderous rage. Terrible what people do to each other."

"How's he doing?"

"It's touch and go, to be honest." He rubbed in chin in thought. "Even if he survives his injuries his brain has suffered severe trauma. It'll help if you can find out how long he was in that  
dumpster."

"Will do, Doc."

"Are you going to tell the family where he was?" Dr Khan lowered his voice.

"Yeah. Not my favourite part of the job."

Dr Khan turned his head, "That's the Halperts."

Brass glanced down the hallway at the clearly distraught couple. The father embracing the sobbing mother. He was about to tell them his son was beaten and left for dead in a dumpster.  
It was definitely not his favourite part of the job.


	7. Chapter 6: Comfort

**Chapter Six: Comfort**

Pam sprinted as fast as she could. Jim's mom had found her outside the ICU and thanked her and Dwight for finding her son. The pain in her eyes mixed with such gratitude was too much to take. She'd made her excuses and darted out the hospital. She ran, wishing she hadn't forsaken her Keds for high-ish heels in an attempt to catch Jim's eye. She ignored the pain in her feet and kept going until the hospital wasn't in sight anymore and her breaths were so ragged she was close to retching. When she couldn't hold back anymore she broke down.

She was wracked with great heaving sobs and the image of Jim laying unconscious behind her eyelids. She couldn't shake it, she couldn't escape it. Every welt, every bruise, every tube and bandage was burned into her memory. She tried to force herself to picture her Jim, the real Jim, the one who'd smiled so joyfully with her in a Mexican sombrero just a few days ago but each time his face would change, his happy green eyes closed over and his skin turned purple and grey. Lifeless.

She'd been so worried about losing him to Karen and to Connecticut, what if she lost him forever? _He's not out of the woods._ That's what the doctor had said. A fresh wave of sobs caught her and she didn't have the strength to wipe them away, the trails on her cheeks stung from the cold air but she left them their to prickle. She pulled out her cell, she needed to speak to someone who knew her and who knew Jim. She needed someone she could trust. She dialled Roy.

"Hey Pam, where are you? Toby was just down here looking for you." Pam couldn't respond, only cry down the phone. "Baby, are you ok? Are you hurt?" He sounded so worried; he hadn't called her baby since they broke up.

"I'm fine." She hiccupped. "C-can you talk... somewhere private?" She choked out.

"Sure Pammy." He said tenderly. She could hear him open and close a door. "I'm in Darryl's office. What's wrong?"

"It's Jim, he's hurt, it's real bad." She bit her lip so hard she was close to breaking the skin.

"Oh. What happened?"

"He got beat up, they won't tell me or Dwight what happened but he's unconscious and... they don't know if..." She couldn't finish before she was crying again.

"Oh Pam, I'm so sorry, it'll be ok. Don't cry baby. Where are you?"

She looked around, it was some gravel and dust wasteland. Rusted metal beams lay twisted on the ground or jutting out of concrete and piles of rubble. Some building had been knocked down and forgotten about.

"S-somewhere outside t-the h-h-hospital." She sniffed and tried to calm herself for a few seconds. Roy stayed quiet while she took a few deep, shuddering breaths. She hated when the breath would jerk and skip. She felt like throwing up. "I couldn't take anymore, I just ran out. I don't even know if Dwight will wait for me. It's really, really bad, Roy."

"I'll come pick you up, ok? I'll come right now I can be there in twenty."

"No, I gotta stay, I've gotta find out what happened."

"Maybe I'll come get you for a break, bring you back tonight. You just need some time away."

"We had to identify him Roy."

"What?"

"Dwight and I, we had to identify him. They must have taken his wallet." The realisation hit her. "Oh god, this was a mugging. That makes perfect sense. Why didn't they just tell us? Oh  
god, Jim. Someone mugged Jim."

"Probably a drug addict looking for a fix. It's happening all the time."

"The detective guy was asking all these questions about who'd wanna hurt him."

"You spoke to a detective?"

"Yeah, because we knew who he was. I can't stop seeing his face Roy, his eyes... they're all closed up. He can't breathe, there's, there's a tube..." She started to break down again.

"Shh, baby, don't talk about it right now, you're upsetting yourself. Listen, call me when you want a ride home, you can sleep at mine tonight, I don't want you to be alone if you want someone to talk to."

"I don't know." She and Roy were getting on better, somehow they'd reach some equilibrium and some of her heart would always lie with her first love. However, a bigger part of her was also in that hospital at Jim's bedside. Still, she didn't want to be alone.

"I'll sleep on my pull out, Kenny uses it when he sleeps over and he's never complained."

"Your brother could sleep on rocks."

"Yeah, you're right. You call me, ok? Any time, I'll come get you."

"Thanks Roy, that would be pretty great."

"He'll be ok, he's tough."

"I'm so scared Roy."

"I know baby, you were so brave going to see him."

"But... I have no business being scared Roy!" She looked around, she'd run away from Jim when he'd needed her, her fear driving her away from him again. "He's the one hurt, he's the one who's been lying in a hospital for a day with no one! He's the one who might never be the same again if he ever wakes up! He could die Roy!"

"It's going to be ok."

"No, it's not. Nothing is going to be ok because some asshole wanted a fix."

"Yeah. I know. So the police think it's a mugging?"

"He just said he's looking at all the options or something like that. Open investigation." She said bitterly. She needed to know more but she just couldn't face it yet. The beeping machines, the eerie quiet, the smell.

"I wish I was there with you, baby."

"Dwight's been good. Surprising, anyone would think he cared."

"You going to be ok? Darryl needs me."

"Yeah, can you come get me when you get off?"

"Ok Pam, I'll be there. Stay strong, baby."

"I'll try."

She hung up and felt a little lighter and a little bit stronger. After all these years at least she could still turn to Roy. She took a deep breath and walked slowly back towards the hospital. Hopefully by the time she got there she'd have the strength to go inside. Jim needed her to prove she was strong and that she could be there for him when he needs it most.


	8. Chapter 7: Connecticut

**I've decided to change my outline for this story but it doesn't change the fundamentals of the story in anyway. Thanks for every single review and to everyone who's taking the time to read this story. Remember this is M rated so expect some coarse language.**

* * *

**Chapter Seven: Connecticut**

Brass wove his way through traffic as quickly as he could. It had been slow going since he left Scranton and now he was almost at his destination. Not only had Miss Filippelli suddenly left Pennsylvania on the day her boyfriend, or rather ex-boyfriend, was attacked, the family business she left to help out with was a custom auto parts fabricator. A quick search revealed that Thomas 'Tommy' Filippelli had two counts of assault against him, one of those with a deadly weapon. Brass was never one to count his chickens before they hatched but this was a hot lead and he needed to chase it down tonight.

It would be well past his shift by the time he got back to Scranton but all he had was an empty house to return to, not even a fish to feed. Making himself feel at home could wait, right now this was his best and only lead. Interviewing the parents didn't reveal much more than the two co-workers had told him. The friend, Mark Ellis, had been more helpful. The young man had broken down when he realised that when he left his friend calling a cab that he'd been attacked before it arrived and never made it home.

A visit to the cab company revealed that the call from Jim Halpert came in at 12.32am and the taxi had arrived at 12.58am. He'd waited for fifteen minutes before calling it a no show. It gave Brass an approximate time of the attack though that alley was so dark on a cloudy night that the driver wouldn't have seen much. With his radio on full blast he hadn't heard anything either.

So that left the ex-girlfriend and her brother. It could certainly be described as a crime of passion and there had to be a reason the relationship was 'strained' as the female co-worker had described. Motivation was the missing puzzle piece.

Another hour and he found the shop just in time to find a petite woman with long dark hair locking up and closing up the shutters.

"Karen Filippelli?"

"Who's asking?" She sounded tired and harassed.

"I'm Captain Brass of Scranton PD. I'd like to ask you a few questions. Inside, if you wouldn't mind." He phrased his last instruction to let her know it wasn't optional and held out his badge. He watched her examine it with deep brown Italian eyes. She was striking in a way, not his type but he could see the appeal there.

"Oh, ok. Just one second, I need to let my brother know, he's just dropping something off at the unit next door." She pointed over her shoulder.

"Is that Tommy?"

"Yeah, how did you know that? What's this about?" She was quick to set on edge. He studied her for a moment as she rubbed her arms in a futile attempt to keep warm.

"Jim Halpert was attacked just before 1am on Monday morning."

Her shock was evident before she looked away and shifted from foot to foot. "Is he ok?"

"He's critical." He wasn't sugar coating the news; he wanted to provoke a reaction.

She touched her fingers to her lips and blinked a few tears away. Brass couldn't tell if they were for the victim or herself. "Shit. What happened?"

"We can discuss it more inside; I'd like to speak to your brother too." Brass doubted his decision not to bring a local uniform along but he'd handled tougher situations should things get  
heated. He could keep this under control.

"Why? He's never even met Jim; he didn't want to meet any of my family." She said defensively.

"He was in Scranton this weekend helping you move."

"Yeah, but we left by eleven pm, we didn't get to my mom's until four am. My brother followed me all the way in the truck. I drove my car."

"I'm sure your brother will confirm that." Brass said coolly. No matter how dysfunctional a family was, they always pulled together in a crisis and protected their own.

"I'm ready Kaz." He clocked Brass's presence with suspicion. "What's up?" Tommy had arrived from behind the building and not the direction Ms Filippelli had indicated. Brass made a mental note to take a look round there in case he'd overheard their conversation and hidden anything important. He was shorter than the victim and wiry but strong with jet black hair and the same skin tone and fine features as his sister. Almost feminine in a way, pretty.

"He's with the Scranton police, Jim was attacked."

"So? He's not your problem anymore." Tommy was puffed up and agitated. Short temper.

"Let's go inside, this won't take long." Brass didn't want to rile up Tommy any more than he had to. He'd noticed his work boots and hoped he'd hand them over without need for a  
warrant. His luck was never that good though.

The Italian woman opened up and let them into the back office. Tommy refused to sit and stood leant against the wall next to his sister. He slipped off his jacket and looked ready for a  
fight. His arms were covered in tattoos of various ages, in stark contrast to the trouser suited woman in expensive jewellery. Brass wanted to ask the first question before she did so took out his note book.

"When did you last see Jim?"

"Saturday afternoon. We broke up. What happened to him?"

"If you could answer my questions first. Tell me about the break up."

"I don't have anything to do with this!"

"I'm just covering all my bases ma'am, now, why did you break up?"

"You don't have to tell him anything Kaz, we can get a lawyer, police always looking to stick it to Italians." He hissed, slamming the sole of his boot against the wall. His sister jumped but  
settled again. She must be used to his outbursts.

"Calm down Tommy, we were on the road by the time it happened." She took a deep breath a readied herself. "It's simple really. He was in love with someone else and used me to get over her. Simple."

"It's never that simple when feelings are involved." Brass purposely didn't ask a question sensing she had more to say and he could tease the flood gates open. It was one of his more subtle interrogation techniques.

"Yeah, well I didn't realise we worked with her, I even... became friends with her." She shook her head in disbelief. "I felt like such an idiot. Jim and I met when he came to Stamford from the Scranton branch, he got promoted, then we got shut down and moved to Scranton. When he said I should move to Scranton with him we started dating. I guess he didn't want to see her again and be single."

"Bastard. Deserved what he got." Spat Tommy. Brass ignored him, there was much more he needed to know and Tommy was making things easy and talking himself into a jail cell. This could end up being a slam dunk.

"What was her name?"

"Pam Beesly." The name dripped with venom and instantly rang a bell; it was the woman who had identified him at the hospital. The receptionist. She hadn't mentioned a relationship beyond work friends.

"They were romantically involved?"

"Jim said they only kissed twice though I had to drag that second kiss out of him kicking and screaming."

"Why?"

"Said we weren't together at the time, said it was none of my business." She wiped a tear from her eye. "Look, I've spent the last few nights crying over him and now he's hurt I really don't know what to feel or how to deal with that but I didn't have anything to do with what happened to Jim, I... I'd fallen in love with him. I really want to hate him right now but I can't."

"Was he sleeping with Ms Beesly?"

"He denied it, but he was infatuated with her. One drunken kiss at the Dundies and some kiss after hours in the office doesn't make you look at her the way he did. It was sick. I couldn't take it anymore."

"Dundies?"

"Some awards thing our boss did, I wasn't there long enough to go to one. Thank god."

"When was the other kiss?"

"May sometime, just before he left for Stamford, some works do, a casino thing. She turned him down apparently and he moved away."

"Must have had it bad. Why'd he come back to Scranton?"

"I asked and he didn't have an answer. He was like an alcoholic being offered a drink when no one knew he was addicted, he couldn't help himself. I was his wagon." She was obviously bitter, perhaps enough to set her brother on him.

"So what time on Saturday did you break up?"

"He left about 2pm, I'd gotten a call from my mom that my dad's office manager had died and he's sick himself so there was no one to run the office until he could hire a replacement. I'd fought with Jim the night before over him and Pam, accused him of sleeping with her. I told him I was going to work for my dad full time, not just as a fill in, and he could either come with me or stay and moon over Pam. He chose Pam."

"So when did your brother show up?"

"About six? He helped me pack up and I cried a lot."

"How did you brother react to Jim?"

"He's an asshole." Tommy drawled. "I'm right here, you can ask me."

"Fine. So you wanted to teach him a lesson?" Brass addressed the brother.

"Yeah. But I didn't. Would have upset my sister."

"What size are your feet?"

"What the hell does that have to do with anything?"

"They look like eights." Brass thought he'd poke his ego, test the waters.

"Tens." He hissed. Brass hid his smirk under a few decades of experience.

"So you took yourself and your size tens to his usual watering hole told your sister you were getting gas and exchanged some words?"

"Tommy was never out of sight that long and we were gone before he got hurt."

"I never saw him, I never spoke to him. I drove straight from Karen's to moms."

Interesting qualifications, Brass mused.

"But you called him right? His number was still in her cell, you could get it if you wanted."

"I didn't speak to him."

"Look man, we can dance around this and tell me all the things you didn't do or I can subpoena you and your sister's phone records as a person of interest. Just tell me what you did and  
save your sister the trouble."

"Fine. I called him."

"What! Tommy, why the hell?" She shrieked and Tommy didn't flinch.

"Because he's an asshole who used you like a whore."

Karen dropped her head into her hands. Brass wasn't buying it though.

"What did you talk about?" Brass asked.

"I left a voice mail, told him what I thought about him and he better stay away from my sister."

"Threaten him?" Asked Brass, wanting to pull the information out of him slowly so he didn't clam up or ask for representation.

"Told him he should watch his back, but I didn't mean anything by it, just wanted to scare him, put him through some hell like my sister."

"Jesus Tommy, like you haven't been in enough trouble. Did you go see him? Did you hit him? You said you were right behind me!"

"God Kaz, I told you I didn't see him, I wouldn't even know what he looked like. I followed you."

"When did you make the call?"

"About four am, after we got home. If I knew where he lived I might have paid him a visit but I didn't."

"Did you speak to Jim that night Miss Filippelli?"

"No. I didn't want to speak to him ever again."

"Sure you didn't mention to your brother that you wish he got some payback. Some instant karma?"

"Are you insinuating I sent Tommy to hurt him?"

"You were hurt, made a fool of, seems reasonable that you'd want him in rough shape to go back to Pam. Maybe you helped or watched?"

The woman rose out of her seat. "You are way out of line! I loved him, he led me on but it doesn't change the fact that while I was planning our future he was playing silly little games with  
little miss butter-wouldn't-melt!"

Brass pulled out a photograph of the victim. With his suspect on edge this might just push her over.

"Oh, oh god. Is that... is that him?"

"That's just his face." Brass pulled out a few more photos. "Broken arm, ribs, fractured skull, he'll need plastic surgery. That is if he ever wakes up."

"No, no, no we had nothing to do with this. Nothing!" She collapsed back into the chair sobbing. Brass had been watching Tommy out of the corner of his eye and his body language had  
become more submissive.

"Seriously," Tommy started, "Karen wouldn't want this and man, I wanted to hit him but that's fucking attempted murder that is."

"You got any proof of when you were on the road? Gas receipts for you and the truck?" Brass needed to place at least one of them in town at the approximate time.

"We filled up before we left. Don't you have traffic cameras or something?" She spoke bitterly through her tears, not even looking up.

"Why did you leave so late?"

"I had to see Toby Flenderson, the HR guy, before I left. I just wanted out of there so I gave up half my commissions. I called him on the Friday night but he had his little girl so we met Sunday evening after he dropped her off. He let me leave without having to go in Monday so we left that night. He didn't think much of Jim either."

Brass noted that was the second time Toby Flenderson's name had appeared in conjunction with a dislike of Jim Halpert. Definitely a person of interest.

"You got anything to prove to me neither of you were in town at the time of the attack?"

"My neighbours probably heard us leave and my mom heard us arrive, we didn't stop. We didn't do this."

"Then who did? You've gotta give me something." Right now, they were still looking good for this. The evidence would be in that moving truck.

"I-I can't..."

"Come on Karen, someone else must have hated the guy." Tommy pleaded. "Think!"

"I don't know, ok! He was the perfect guy, just fucked up about Pam."

"What about your ex's, anyone who'd be jealous?" Brass probed.

"No, I haven't dated anyone seriously in over a year and even then we ended on good terms. I wasn't even from Scranton. I'm sorry. I want to help, I do."

Brass gave her the best chance he could to give him another option but nothing. "I'm going to need your boots Tommy."

"This is bullshit man, you need a warrant."

"I'll get right on that. You return the moving van yet?"

"Yeah, Hertz rentals."

Brass nodded and got on the phone for a warrant. He couldn't get a warrant for all the lug wrenches in the building but he got permission for Tommy's boots and their DNA and fingerprints. While he was on the phone he could overhear their hushed conversation.

"I have to go see him, Tommy."

"Why? Because you feel guilty?"

"No, because I actually give a shit about what happens to him, what if he dies Tommy?"

"Save the next woman from getting screwed over. Do the world a favour."

"Just shut it, Tommy, you know if mom finds out about this she'll think you did it."

"Yeah, well mom thinks I shot JFK so big fuckin' whoop. Don't see him Kaz, let him rot."

"I have to see him."

"If you and Pam were hurt, who'd you think he'd see first?" Karen dropped her head. "Exactly."

Brass's call had ended a minute ago but he kept eavesdropping for information. He needed to connect them to the crime scene. The truck would be key evidence, the attacker would have  
been covered in blood and right now Tommy Filippelli would have been in that driver's seat. He'll have it wrapped and towed to the lab in Scranton for Jennifer and her team to examine.

"Take off your shoes, Tommy, we'll also be taking any other boots from your house along with the clothes you were wearing that night. You too Miss Filippelli."

"BS man, total BS." Tommy growled. "He fucks around, gets beat, and we're the ones getting questioned and told to give up our stuff?"

"Just do it, Tommy." His sister groaned. "I want this over and done with."

Tommy took off his boots and slammed them on the desk. Brass put on his latex gloves and examined the tread, no match, not even close. Hopefully another pair might be more fruitful but if he's smart he'll have dumped them.

By the time Brass was ready to leave he had to moving truck on its way to Scranton along with Tommy's boots and both sets of clothing. Brass just hoped by the time he woke up the next day, he could make an arrest.

It still puzzled him that the receptionist had made no mention of a relationship with the victim. Not that it would matter if Tommy and Karen had been involved in the attack, but it gnawed  
at him. Lies of omission were as bad as bold faced ones, she had something to hide. If the truck turned up clean, he had options for questioning. Toby Flenderson and Pam Beesly.

* * *

**I actually have a lot of sympathy for Karen's character and if I was in her shoes I'd have probably been mad as hell at Jim for using her to get over Pam.**** Not saying whether it was enough to get her involved in Jim's beating though!**


	9. Chapter 8: Bedside Manner

**Chapter Eight: Bedside Ma****nner**

Pam finally worked up the courage to go back to the ICU. She'd made a detour to the cafeteria for a rancid cup of tea to think things over some more. Mugged. Jim was mugged. Things like that happened in New York or Baltimore, not Scranton and definitely not to someone she knew. Someone she loved.

She couldn't hide anymore and took the elevator to the ICU floor. She'd called Dwight who had head back to the office to break the news and make sure Jim didn't lose his job while he was in hospital. Pam couldn't believe how Dwight had taken control after she'd freaked out and literally run from the building. Somehow what happened to Jim was so much bigger than the animosity they shared. While Dwight was taking care of everything all she had to do was go see Jim and still she'd stalled. Not anymore though.

She walked slowly upstairs and asked the kindly woman, Joyce, on reception if she could see Jim when she felt a light tap on her shoulder.

"Pam?" Said a female voice she half recognised. Pam turned and found a tall, slim, female version of Jim towering over her.

"Larissa?"

"Yeah." She said flatly. Her eyes looked raw from crying and faint hints of eyeliner and mascara stained her cheeks. "Thanks for finding him; you should have called me though."

"The doctor said he would, I wanted to." Pam spluttered.

"Before that, he should have family there, people who care about him."

"Dwight and I care. We didn't want to put you through that if we were wrong. It all happened so fast in the end."

"Yeah well, mom said I should thank you." She said begrudgingly. Pam felt uneasy in her presence.

"Can I see him?"

"Mom and Dad are with him and Pete and Tom are on their way and I'm going downstairs to meet them. You should just go home."

"Please, I just want to see him for a second." Pam knew she was begging but she was tired and desperate.

"Why are you even here? You turned him down, remember? You had your chance."

"I know but... you don't know how it was for me and what he was asking of me. I was with Roy for nearly ten years, I was supposed to get married last June and frankly... you don't even know me!"

"I know enough." She replied coldly in the face of Pam's tears.

"Oh hello again, Pam." Said the calm voice of Jim's mom, Betsy. "Are you here to see Jim?"

"She's just leaving mom."

"Nonsense. Come now before his brothers get here and pretend to be all manly and not cry over their little brother." Pam could tell Jim's mom was trying to be strong but her trembling bottom lip gave her away.

"Mom, she shouldn't be here."

"Jim would want her here, this is about your brother right now."

"I am thinking about him! I'm protecting him."

"I understand that sweetheart but Pam's important to Jim as I'm sure Jim is to Pam." She looked over to Pam for confirmation.

"Very, very much." She'd managed to pull herself together a little while the women in his family fought for her bedside rights.

The scowl on Larissa's face didn't go unnoticed by either Pam or Jim's mom.

"Jim would want to see you before you go home. Can you visit tomorrow too? Jim might have his own room by then." Betsy put her arm around Pam and guided her through to the ICU and away from the waves of annoyance flowing from Larissa.

"Yes. I'll come whenever I can." She'd sleep on the floor if they'd let her.

"Excellent. It's quite remarkable really, Jim always painted Dwight to be such a tyrant but that health plan he made had special provisions if you were attacked. Odd as it is Jim's eligible for all sorts, even physiotherapy sessions while he's not moving under his own steam." Pam promised herself that she'd hug Dwight the next time she saw him, even if it would make Angela mad as hell.

They stopped just before the critical care ward. Pam stalled, she wasn't ready yet.

"How are you feeling Mrs Halpert?"

"Betsy, please and thank you for asking. I'm doing ok, all I'm focused on is getting Jim better, I know it's serious but he'll get through this, I'm in crisis mode or something. Seen my boys through every childhood injury imaginable, this is like all of them at once." She half laughed out of some strange desperation.

"Thank you for letting me in, I know you must not want me around." Pam said meekly.

"Don't let Larissa get to you, she thinks the sun shines out of Jim and in her eyes he can do no wrong. I know things are complicated between the two of you but it's plain to see that there's something strong that binds you two together, whether anything comes of it or not."

Pam was powerless to stop herself from crying again. She didn't feel like she deserved this much sweetness. She should be doing the comforting.

"Shhh, it's ok, you can come and see him whenever you like, he needs you. I'll be forever grateful that he didn't spend a second longer than he had to on his own after everything he'd..." She choked up.

"It's ok, you don't have to say any more."

"How could someone throw my boy away?" She sobbed, this time Pam wrapped her arms around Betsy. She didn't know what she meant but wasn't sure if asking would make her feel worse. "You go see him my dear, I think I need some water and a moment to compose myself before the boys arrive, they don't know the full story yet."

"Oh, ok." Betsy walked away leaving Pam standing at the entrance. She could see Jim's feet but various bodies blocked him from view. Taking a deep breath she walked over, hoping that this time she could hold it together. "Hello Mr Beesly."

"Call me Gerry, Pam." She pretended to look out the window while Jim's father wiped away a few tears. "Please, take my seat; I'll give you a few minutes alone." He rushed out without giving Pam a chance to decline. Pam wasn't the only one not coping seeing Jim hurt so badly, it must be more acute as a parent no matter how old your kids are.

Pam took the small swivel stool and sat close to Jim's side. Somehow he looked more Jim-like but maybe she was just getting used to the swelling and bruising. She could see a few more of his features, the patches of hair on his knuckles and his pronounced adams apple. A nurse adjusted his drip and made a mark on his chart.

"Can he hear me?"

"It's unlikely but I'm a strong believer that having familiar voices and smells helps when a patient is in this condition, you should talk to him."

"Thanks." Pam waited until as few people as possible were in ear shot and moved closer to his ear. It was then she noticed there was no hair poking out, they must have shaved his head for surgery. "So they gave you a hair cut Jim, I never really saw you as a shaven head kind of guy." She giggled nervously, this wasn't coming naturally. "I'd suggest that we could convince Dwight that you had some government chip installed but he's been amazing. Yeah, you think me saying that meant I was the one with a head injury but it's true. We're going to have to stick to pranking Andy from now on. Oh! You don't know this yet, Andy got sent to anger management training for ten weeks! I feel a little itsy-bit guilty but seriously, that guy is insane. The hole is still there too, I bet ya ten bucks it's not fixed by the time you get back to work."

"You're doing great." Said the nurse warmly. "Sounds like you've got quite some friends there."

"Yeah, we have an interesting place of work don't we Jim, some days we actually sell stuff and I answer phones."

"I'm just changing his catheter bag." Said the nurse as she knelt on the floor on the other side of the bed.

"Yeah, I'll look the other way. Sorry Jim, I know it's not what you'd want be to see but I did catch you peeing outside that time and I know you still don't believe I peeked but I didn't. I totally could now though but I won't because I love and respect you. And because it's beyond perverted." Pam took a deep sigh. "Yeah, I said I love you. Notice how I slipped it in there while joking because I'm a total coward? I promise I'll tell you properly when you wake up ok so get healing because... I need you. It's selfish because you need me right now but I need you in my life and I'll take whatever you will give me. I know we've got a lot to talk about and a whole heap of stuff shoved under a rug or two but... I love you."

"Good on you, sweetie." Said the nurse. Pam had completely forgotten she was there but she didn't have the energy to be embarrassed.

"I'm pathetic."

"You're here."

"How's he doing?"

"He's been the same for the last few hours, that's usually a good sign. We're going from hour to hour. Keep talking, maybe the familiar voices have been helping."

"Ok. So, uh... Oscar is back. Kevin's waited six weeks to tell him his 'gay-cation' pun and Angela is still being nice to him which is nice, well, weird actually. Oh, here's something I haven't told you but I figure you've probably earned it. Ok, I totally expect your heart rate to go up if you can hear me but Dwight and Angela... _a couple_. Have been since your barbeque at least, I saw them making out, well, I saw their feet which was kinda icky because they were laying down, but I had loads more evidence like Angela buying him chocolate at work. I reckon they could end up married soon enough."

Pam looked hopefully at his heart rate monitor, no change.

"Holy shit!" A voice boomed behind her and Pam almost jumped off the stool with fright. "Shit, shit, shit."

"Peter, stop swearing." Chastised Betsy.

"Here, take my seat, I'll come back tomorrow."

"Fuck, fuck."

"Peter!"

"Sorry mom. What the hell happened? You said it was bad but, shit." The older man paced with his hands braced on his head.

"Excuse us Pam, I promise you I did not raise such a foul mouthed child."

"That's ok, Betsy, those were pretty much the words in my head a few hours ago."

"You're Pam?" Asked Pete, he had darker hair than his brother and a receding hairline but handsome in his own way. Pam braced herself for another Larissa-style reaction.

"Yes, that's me."

"I'm Pete, Jim's brother but you probably worked that out, thanks for tracking him down, good to know he's got so many people looking out for him." Pete held out a hand for her to shake but he hadn't taken his eyes off his brother. Pam took it hesitantly and they weakly shook. "What the hell are those marks?"

"They hit him with a lug wrench."

"Fuckers." Pete cursed, this time his mother didn't protest.

"Oh my god." Pam felt like a massive weight was sat on her chest, she struggled to draw in another breath.

"Did the policeman not tell you dear?"

"N-no, he's said we weren't family." Pam didn't know how she spoke, her lungs still left airless.

"Oh, well... maybe we'll talk tomorrow."

Pam nodded vaguely. _A lug wrench_. "I'll let you spend some time with him now."

"Thanks Pam, the nurses only want a maximum of two people at a time."

Pam said her goodbyes to Pete, Betsy and Jim and made her way downstairs. She felt calmer now. It still scared her that they were still thinking in terms of hour-to-hour but she'd  
managed to spend some time just being there with him. The new information was turning in her stomach. She'd registered the marks on his face and arms but she'd never thought about what might have caused them. Jim didn't stand a chance.

She got to the front entrance and took out her phone to call Roy. She'd sleep at home tonight, it didn't feel right to that she'd tell Jim she loved him and then spend the night crying on the shoulder of her ex. She knew Roy was hoping for more and all she wanted was friendship. She gave him a quick call and asked if he'd mind leaving work early and picking her up. Another wave of nausea hit when a familiar voice came from nearby.

"Roy? Your ex, Roy?" Larissa snorted. She was smoking a cigarette behind a pillar.

"Yeah, he's coming to pick me up. Dwight brought me here."

"You're a class act." She huffed sarcastically.

"We're not together and we won't ever be again."

"So I guess that's why he's on his way." Larissa didn't believe a word she said.

"We were together a long time, we went through a lot, we just weren't right for each other anymore. It doesn't mean we hate each other."

"Whatever. You won my mom over, what do I care?" Larissa slid down the pillar and rested on her heels.

Pam wanted to scream at her but when she looked down at her she could see the fear. Pam remembered what Betsy had said about how Larissa felt the sun shone out of her brother.  
She'd be turning to Jim right now if she could. Rather than release all her sadness in a ball of fury she sat down by Larissa, noticing for the first time how young she really was. Barely twenty years old with a faint dusting of freckles under her pale skin. Her neat chignon was unravelling and loose strands of hair were falling around her face making her look younger still. Even the way she was sat against the pillar reminded her of a lost little girl curling up for protection. Pam decided to talk.

"Last May when Jim told me he loved me I thought I knew what I wanted. I thought we were just meant to be friends and I was meant to marry Roy. My whole life was mapped out and in one conversationand one... kiss, he changed everything. I didn't realise at first, but he did. I didn't know what to do or what to feel. Then I found out he put in for a transfer before he told me how he felt. I couldn't believe it, first Australia and then that? I didn't know what to do and then he was gone. Just gone."

Pam realised Larissa was giving her time to talk and just stared into the distance.

"I couldn't catch up with my own thoughts, suddenly so many things were bothering me, like how I hated my job, I wasn't spending enough time working towards something I really wanted to do like my art and how Roy was just content in this rut and he really wasn't that excited to get married. I don't think he was excited about me either. Everything I knew was crumbling and I lost my best friend."

"But you left him. You left Roy."

"I did. I got my own place, my own car, started art classes. I missed Jim but neither of us made a move. I figure he'd find out about the wedding through the grape vine, I should have called but I was scared and I wasn't ready to deal with Jim's disappointment that I didn't do it for him. I wasn't ready for another relationship and I couldn't do that to Roy. To be honest, I was still really mad that he made the transfer without telling me, he just dropped a bomb and left. I know it was hard for him but he was asking so much of me and there was so much I needed to do on my own."

"I get that, I do."

"When he came back I asked him out. He turned me down, he'd started dating Karen."

"When did you ask him?"

"His first day back, just for coffee."

"He mentioned that, but he never said it was a date."

"I hugged him and everything; it was a date to me. I figured he didn't love me anymore and maybe even didn't even like me. I was so much happier and more confident too. I guess I missed my chance but the window was so small, I couldn't change my whole life that quickly, I couldn't rip Roy's heart out when he'd never done anything wrong. I don't think Jim thought about what it was like from my side."

"You hurt him."

"We hurt each other. We said so much yet nothing meaningful until it all exploded." It was the first time in a while Pam had properly spoken about her and Jim. Larissa nodded and lit a second cigarette with her first. "Things had been getting better, I even made friends with Karen, it would have been easier if she was a witch but she was really nice."

"Never met her."

"I care about him, much more than I should considering he was with Karen up until the weekend."

"You love him?"

"Yeah, I do. Our timing sucks."

"Yeah. I just wanted Jim to be happy. Now I just want him to still be alive by tomorrow morning. I swear to god when they find the dicks that put him in that dumpster I'll kill them."

"What?" _Dumpster. Dumpster?_

"I guess no one told you. Are... are you sure you wanna know? I kinda wish I didn't." It was the first time Larissa had shown her any softness since they'd met but she had to know what happened.

"Tell me."

"They, or maybe it was just one guy, they don't know. They beat him with a wrench, stomped on him, took his stuff, his clothes and put him in a dumpster behind Poor Richards. Fuckers saved his life; he'd have died in the storm if he wasn't in that thing. Some garbage men found him the next morning. He spent the whole night in there. Dying. Alone."

Pam couldn't speak and she was shaking, her whole body was shaking.

"You ok?"

"Uh huh." Pam said unconvincingly, she felt faint.

"You wanna a smoke? Helps settle you."

"What kind of mugger would do that? He got his money."

"Detective thinks it's personal, you know anyone?"

"Everyone loved him."

"Yeah, Mark said nothing happened in the bar either. It doesn't make sense to me, I just think it was some nutjob, you know, wrong place, wrong time."

"Jim will wake up and tell us."

"He better, Pete and Tom are fuckin' useless at girl talk."

Pam snickered a little. Pam considered for a moment saying that she could talk to her but she didn't want to push her luck after making as much progress as they had. "I met Pete briefly."

"How'd he take seeing Jim?"

"He cursed a lot."

"That's about as complex as Pete gets, he loves him though, he'll cry later and then deny it even if you can hear his wailing a mile away."

"You got somewhere to stay tonight?"

"Yeah, I'm staying at mom and dads, Pete and Tom will share a pull out. At least one of us will be with Jim in case... you know."

"He'll be ok, if he got through that night he can get through anything." That night in a dumpster. A goddamn dumpster, Pam thought to herself.

"Yeah, I keep worrying that he was only hanging on to say goodbye and that when Tom gets here..."

"Jim's a fighter; he'll fight for all of us. He's not going anywhere. Even Dwight thinks so."

"Ha, infamous Dwight. The way Jim described him I thought he'd be dressed as a wizard." Larissa got to her feet and quickly stubbed out her cigarette. A balding man rushed towards her  
and hugged her tight, even when he pulled back he kept his hands firmly on her arms, not ready to break contact. Definitely another Halpert.

"I saw you smoking."

"Can you blame me?"

"How is he?"

"Bad shape but still here. This is Pam from his work."

"_The_ Pam?"

Pam swallowed hard. Her reputation preceded her.

"Yeah, she and that Dwight came and identified him."

"Oh, I guess we should thank you."

"That's ok, I'll see you tomorrow."

Pam watched as Larissa took Tom upstairs to see Jim. The sun had just about set and the air was becoming even more frigid due to the cloudless sky. She felt the cold to her marrow of  
her bones and she could feel her insides shaking but it wasn't due to the temperature, but shock. What had happened to Jim was so much worse than she'd imagined. She'd pictured fists, just fists, she hadn't thought about those marks too much. Now she had this whole scenario and probably so much she didn't know. It took _time_ to do that much damage. How long had Jim suffered before they'd put him in the trash like he was nothing. They left him to die.

Now she kinda wished she'd taken up Larissa's offer of a cigarette. What she really wanted was to sleep but she was scared all she'd see was Jim and she was powerless to stop what happened or help him. She could see him now in her mind's eye and she'd do anything to hear his voice but all she could think about was whether he cried out when he got hit, whether he begged them to stop, whether he thought he was going to die in that dirty alley all alone. She tried to piece together what happened but for all the horrific details she knew very little. A thousand unanswered questions ran through her head. Was he tricked? Was he jumped? Who thought he deserved that kind of punishment? Did he know the people who tried to end his life? Her shakes got worse and she wondered quite how Larissa kept herself together as much as she had.

It felt like it took hours for Roy to arrive but eventually he drew up outside. She ran over and got in, shaking and wanting to vomit.

"Hey baby, you ok?"

"No. Can I sleep at yours tonight?"

* * *

**So Pam knows some of the hideous details and can't face being on her own. Silly girl. **

**Thanks to everyone who's reading this story, makes me a happy camper to know people like my work (or at least read, don't want to be presumptuous). **


	10. Chapter 9: Dunder Mifflin Part I

**We're back with Brass for the next couple of chapters as the investigation tries to get off the ground. **

* * *

**Chapter Nine: Dunder Mifflin (Part I)**

It had to be the most depressing business park he'd seen that wasn't a crime scene. Grey and lifeless, even the hedge row looked scrawny and anaemic. Brass parked in a free space round the side of the building and begrudgingly got out of his car. It was another freezing day, too cold to snow, but his senses were assaulted by a very different smell than the cold morning air. Marijuana. He looked around a spotted two stoners in uniform leaning against a truck that had 'Vance Refrigeration' written on the side. The victim's tox screen came back negative but it was worth a couple of questions while he was here.

"Hey guys?"

"Yeah?" Replied the skinnier one. His hair was greasy and slicked back. Brass wasn't sure if it was hair gel or he hadn't seen soap in a while.

"You know Jim Halpert?"

"The guy who got beat?" He asked before taking another heavy draw.

"Yeah, that's him."

"Not really, seen him about but not to talk to. Why you asking?" He spoke without letting out his breath.

"Scranton PD."

"Fuck, shit." He let out his breath and dropped his joint down a nearby drain. His chubbier friend was a bit slower on the uptake so the skinny guy took it from him and disposed of it too. Brass watched amused.

"I'm homicide, not DEA."

"I have glaucoma."

"Sure you do. You know who might have put the beat down on that guy?"

"Heard nothing but rumours, some people were saying he was just unlucky, some druggie did him for his money."

"You know any likely druggies?"

"Nah, man, we're not like that. We've gotta get back to work."

Brass was pretty much done with them and he knew where to find them for follow up. He took their names before being pointed in the direction of the main entrance.

He made his way into the main office and found Pam Beesly at her desk looking drawn and haggard. She hadn't slept much last night, if at all. She was also wearing the same clothes, looked like she hadn't left the hospital last night.

"Captain Brass, is Jim ok?" The whole office fell into a deathly silence as they waited for his reply. Brass let his eyes briefly scan the room. There were three empty desks.

"There's no change in his condition. I'm here to ask some questions."

"Oh, good, ok, I'll get Michael Scott, he's the manager. He should let you use the conference room. Would you like something to drink?"

"I'm good. Which one is Jim Halpert's desk?"

"That one there." She pointed to the one closest to reception and closest to the object of his desire even if he had his back to her. "Dwight had a look through it but he didn't find anything. Just work stuff."

Brass should have known the overgrown Boy Scout would have interfered with potential evidence. "Mind if I look through it?"

"Sure, anything to help."

Brass could feel a dozen pair of eyes on him as he idly leafed through different documents. Schrute tried to 'report' to him but he silenced the odd man with just a look and one raised finger. He found nothing out of the ordinary. Pictures of family, doodles on a jotter, a date book and various files of paper. He kept a collection of post-it notes in one of the bottom drawers, probably from his girlfriend, the handwriting looked fairly feminine. "You know whose handwriting this is?" He asked the receptionist.

"Oh, those are mine; were they in Jim's desk?"

"Yes, any idea why he'd keep these?" He shuffled through them and read some aloud. "A picture of a smiley face, 'Conference Room, Five Minutes!', 'Who do you think would win in a fight, Dwight or the Golden Girls?'" This guy was more than a little infatuated to hold on to these.

"I-I don't know why he'd keep them."

Brass could see that she had her eyes locked on the post-its. She may not have known they were there but she was certainly pleased about it. Maybe the victim's feelings were returned  
and this wasn't a one-sided obsession? Something was off.

Brass surveyed the office again. While he was looking for any tell-tale signs of nerves from the co-workers his eyes abruptly stopped on a hole in the wall.

"What's with the hole?"

"Oh, that?" The receptionist fidgeted nervously, fiddling with her necklace and wrapping her other arm protectively around herself. "Um..."

Dwight Schrute interrupted, opened his notebook and announced officially, "Andrew Bernard aka Andy. Salesman. 4.35pm on Friday of last week punched a hole in the wall in rage when he was unable to find his continually ringing cell phone." He boomed, annunciating every word. "Phone eventually located in the ceiling."

"How did it get there?" Brass asked, expecting Dwight to announce it.

"Unknown. I suspect foul play." He said enthusiastically. He was enjoying this a little too much.

"It was Jim and Pam, Dwight, everyone knows it." Said an older plump woman tiresomely. "Andy just snapped. He's in anger management."

"So," Brass recapped, "Jim Halpert played a prank on a co-worker causing him to have a violent outburst to the extent that he punches a hole in the wall and just two days later Jim is found beaten? How come I'm only just hearing about this?"

"Oh, Andy wouldn't hurt anyone. That's why he punched the wall instead." Said the older woman meekly, a little worried about what hornet's nest she'd disturbed.

"Andy Bernard wasn't in Scranton at the time of the attack." Said Schrute, flicking through his notebook again. "He went to visit his parents."

"And you know this how?" Brass was getting exasperated that his investigation was getting usurped and undermined by Schrute as well as the secretive receptionist.

"I called him to gloat."

"To gloat?"

"Yes, he'd tried and succeeded in forcing me to quit but I am such an essential and a fundamental corner stone to this office it couldn't survive without me. Michael rehired me."

"I'm going to need Mr Bernard's location."

Now he had a second suspect and this one looked more probable than Tommy Filippelli. He's seen murders over less than a stolen phone before, especially if the perpetrator was unbalanced, it only takes one little thing to push them over the edge.

Before he could ask another question Michael Scott arrived and firmly shook his hand. "Anything you need, you have. No one messes with my family and gets away with it. Jim's like my son." He bit his fist to stop himself from crying.

The boss was fairly eccentric but seemed to sense the gravity of the situation. He could deal with the Bernard situation later, he'll need to run his name first and check for any priors. Brass set himself up in the conference room. He knew who he wanted to see first, Pam Beesly.

She walked in shyly and sat down without a word. She was still playing with her gold necklace and kept her arm wrapped around her waist but met his eyes.

"You weren't completely honest with me when we first spoke, Miss Beesly." He went for the direct approach, no need to beat around the bush.

"S-sorry I forgot about Andy. It was just a prank and he's harmless really, I mean he plays the banjo and sings acapella, we went too far but neither of us thought he'd explode like that. I-I'm sorry." She stuttered and stammered.

She was easily rattled but that wasn't what he was getting at though. "How would you describe your relationship with Jim Halpert?"

"Complicated. We're friends."

"Were you sleeping together?"

"No! He was with Karen." She looked uncomfortable and stressed, she wouldn't be a tough nut to crack. He doubted she'd ever spoken to police before yesterday.

"So you wanted to but he was taken?" Brass sat forward with his elbows on the desk, making her feel the pressure. "What? Did he spurn your advances? Or maybe he wanted you both?"

"No, you're getting this all wrong." She cried. "Just... let me explain, ok, it's complicated." She tried to sound controlled and calm, all too aware that her workmates would be straining to overhear the conversation for some morsel of gossip.

"I've got time."

She blinked back some tears and composed herself. "Jim started working here almost four years ago and we became friends. I knew he had a crush on me back then but he said he was over it, I thought he was, I believed him."

"But he wasn't?"

"No. Last April he told me he loved me. We kissed." She looked down at her lap and wrung her hands.

"But you didn't love him back?"

"Uh... it wasn't just that. I was getting married the next month."

Brass looked at her left hand. It was bare. "You were engaged both times you kissed?"

"Both?"

"Karen Filippelli said Jim confessed to her you'd kissed twice. She seemed to think he was obsessed with you and you didn't return his feelings but she didn't mention that you were engaged. In fact, she was pretty much in the dark that you two had any romantic history until recently."

"We... uh, well I got a little drunk at an awards thing ages ago and I kinda kissed him on the lips but it wasn't romantic. It was in front of everyone."

"Including your fiancé?"

"No, he'd left before the thing properly started."

"And did your fiancé find out about this? Anyone tell him?"

"No, Roy doesn't know anything. He was jealous of our friendship but that was it."

Brass found it strange that she believed he didn't know, word gets around in a town like Scranton. If an engaged colleague kissed an eligible male friend when out of sight of her fiancé that would be grade A office gossip. Maybe there was a reason no one told him?

"What was his name and where does he work? I take it you didn't get married?"

"I called it off a couple of weeks before the date, we weren't right for each other. His name is Roy Anderson, he works downstairs in the warehouse."

Brass's mind was swimming with questions. How could he not have found out if he worked here? Every answer was creating more questions; he had to make sense of this somehow. "So Roy knew Jim?" She nodded. "Were they friends?"

"Not really. But they didn't hate each other or anything."

"What did Jim say when you called off the wedding?"

She looked down again. Her voice was barely audible. "I didn't tell him."

"Why not?"

"I don't know. He left for Stamford after he told me how he felt and I said no. I didn't think he wanted to hear from me." She pulled her arms tighter around herself as if that would make her feel better at this point.

"But he came back. With Karen."

"Yeah."

"That piss you off?"

"No, I was sad. I missed him. Things weren't the same when he came back but recently things had been better. More like they used to be."

"So you knew the guy was in love with you but you just wanted his friendship?"

"No, yes, no. I wanted more but he was in a relationship, I wasn't going to get in the way of that. I respected that."

"He didn't show you the same courtesy though, did he?" He let that question sit but she didn't say anything, just looked at her feet. "Are you sure your fiancé didn't know?"

"The break up was nothing to do with Jim."

"Really? So it's just a coincidence that Jim tells you he loves you and you break it off?"

"I just realised I didn't want to spend the rest of my life with Roy, we're still friends though. It wasn't to do with Jim; he just made me think about my future."

"What's your fiancé like? Bad temper?"

"Roy did not do that to Jim." She said vehemently. "He just wouldn't."

"So let's recap. Jim falls in love with you; you rebuff him and choose your fiancé. You then ditch the fiancé, still don't want Jim but when he gets a girlfriend suddenly you want him. Sounds like you're messing with his head, Miss Beesly."

"You're making it sound worse than it is. I love Jim but he doesn't want me. Not anymore."

"So what were the post-its about?" He threw them on the table in front of the nervy woman. "You don't keep every little note from a friend. He's still in love with you, wouldn't you agree?"

She looked at the post-its; there must have been at least thirty of them in a variety of neon colours. "I-I don't know."

"So what if your ex knew. What if he knew Jim loved you and you loved him too?"

"Roy wouldn't hurt anyone."

"How long were you together?"

"Nine years."

Brass whistled. "Wow, you threw away nine years over a kiss? A simple little kiss? If you were my fiancée I'd be pissed."

"Roy didn't know! And even if he did, he couldn't do that to Jim."

"Maybe he could if he thought you were cheating on him the whole time? You had to be sleeping together; maybe you thought if you did it once you'd get it out of your systems and it just kept going."

"No! No, I wasn't cheating and Roy still wouldn't do that. What happened to Jim was done by some deranged addict or something."

"What happened to your friend was an act of passion. Someone _hates _him."

"Then talk to Roy, you'll see he had nothing to do with this and while you're blaming him the person who hurt Jim is getting away with it. Maybe Andy finally completely snapped. It was more likely him than Roy."

"What size feet does your fiancé have?"

She looked at Brass quizzically. "Ten. Why?"

"A size ten boot print was left on his body after he was stripped. He was stomped on." Brass watched the doubt flash in her eyes. It was brief but it was there, plain to see. "Roy ever stomp on you? Ever knock you about?"

"Roy never laid a finger on me!" She was getting irate, her voice more confident and assertive. Brass wasn't sure whether to believe her.

"Not so sure about Jim though, are you?"

They sat silent for a minute that must have felt like an age to the petite receptionist.

Pam stood. "Is there anything else you want to ask me?"

"I'll find you if I need you."

"Ok." She left but didn't return to her desk, she probably headed for the ladies bathroom.

It hadn't gone as planned. He was expecting her to confess to an affair, their relationship seemed too intense to be based around a couple of stolen kisses. He needed to question the ex-fiancé right now, before they had a chance to talk.


	11. Chapter 10: Dunder Mifflin Part II

**Chapter Ten: Dunder Mifflin (Part II)**

It only took him a minute to collect Roy from the warehouse and lead him to the conference room. News of his presence had spread and work had pretty much ground to a halt while speculation and gossip reigned supreme. He was a broad man, looked like he went to the gym but stuck to weights as well as the heavy lifting involved in his job. He was certainly the right build for his perpetrator, that was a start.

"Mr Anderson, how did you know Jim Halpert?"

"He works here, he's friends with Pam." He kept his answers clipped. He reclined casually in the chair with his legs crossed at the ankles.

"You were engaged to Pam?"

"Yeah."

"But you broke up?"

"Yeah. What does that have to do with Halpert?" Brass noted that he used his last name, a sign they weren't close.

"You like Jim Halpert?"

"He's alright. We could talk if we had to, about sports and stuff."

"How did you feel about him and Pam being friends?"

"What's going on here? Are you saying I had something to do with this?" His body language altered, he was leaning forward ready to jump out of his chair. Brass didn't flinch.

"I'm just figuring out the dynamics of Mr Halpert's life. Friends, family, work colleagues. It's all connected to the bigger picture. So, did you mind that Pam had a male friend?" The investigator kept his tone as neutral as possible so his potential suspect didn't feel cornered.

"Not really, at the time I thought he kept her from complaining to me all the time, I was grateful. Thought he might be gay or something. You think this could be one of those hate crimes?"

"He's straight. He liked Pam a lot."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You hear any rumours about Jim and Pam? Maybe at some awards thing..." Brass opened his notebook, "...the Dundies?"

"No, I left early, Pam and I got into a fight because I wanted to leave. What happened?"

"How about any other times, you heard anything about them being a little too cosy?"

"What are you trying to say, you trying to tell me they were fucking or something?" Brass noticed that his fists were balled up and he was puffing like a bull ready to charge. It hadn't taken him long to get worked up.

"I'm just asking you if you heard any rumours."

"No, I haven't. A couple of the guys said I should watch out but like I said, I thought he might be gay. I know he dated chicks while he worked here, smoking hot ones too, but he seemed like a stand up guy."

"If you saw him dating, why'd you think he was gay?"

"He just seemed a bit, _that way_, you know."

"You know who might want to hurt him?"

"No, I mean some people think he's annoying but no one would do what Pam was telling me last night."

"Last night?"

"Yeah, Pam was really upset after speaking to Jim's sister; I let her stay at mine. We talked."

So much for being in love with the victim. The relationship between these three was more complex than he'd anticipated.

"You're back together?"

"No, but I want to be. I think we're getting there. I appreciate her now."

Interesting revelation, looks like this Pam Beesly has a spell on both these guys, Brass mused and made a note. "So you didn't sleep in the same bed?"

"I took the sofa bed. Why are you asking me all this?"

"Did you know that when you were engaged to Pam she and Jim Halpert kissed? Couple of times too. Wasn't just him either, she kissed him." Brass had braced himself for an eruption but he just sat, fist balled up and his whole body rigid and tense. He waited but nothing happened. "This news to you?"

"Pam tell you that?" He asked coldly with his jaw set.

"Where were you Sunday night? Go for a drink at Poor Richards?"

"I was at home. Had a few beers, watched some TV then fell asleep." He just stared out the window contemplating something.

"Got anyone who can confirm that?"

"No."

"What did you watch?"

"Poker, some classic football, usual shit."

"So come on man, you don't seem that surprised your girl was swapping spit with the guy upstairs, must have made you mad when you found out. Pam called off the wedding, she wants him now."

"NO SHE DOESN'T!" Roy slammed his fists on the desk. Brass jumped in surprise.

"Got a temper, Mr Anderson?"

"She was just friends with the guy, if they kissed it was his doing, he should have just stayed away."

"Decided to keep him away permanently? Must have been a surprise when Pam found him alive?"

"Say what you like, I didn't touch him, you've got nothing on me."

"You've got size ten feet?"

"Yeah, so?"

"See, when the guy stomped on Mr Halpert he left behind a boot print, a pretty damn perfect one. Let me see the bottom of your shoes." Brass demanded.

Roy leant back and slammed his heels up on to the table. The bottom of his boots looked new, they were hardly scuffed.

"These new?"

"Bought them a while back, not worn them much."

"Where are your old ones?"

"Threw them out."

"That doesn't look good for you."

"What? A guy can't throw out his shoes when they're all worn out?"

"Not when they're covered in Jim Halpert's blood."

"I. Didn't. Touch. Him. I didn't even know about him and Pam until you just told me!" He yelled.

"I think you knew, I think you were at Poor Richards that night and you saw Jim. I think you saw him outside all alone and a little drunk and saw your chance to take him out of the picture."

"Bullshit! I wasn't there!"

"What did you drive to work today?"

"What the hell does that have to do with anything?"

"Just answer my questions and this will all be over."

"My truck, Ford F150."

That would work. Maybe he could find someone who saw him at the bar last night too.

"Mind if I take a look?"

"Whatever." He sulked. His moods were swinging and unpredictable. Brass was on high alert.

"Is that a yes?"

"Yeah, go crazy, you can look just don't mess it up or take anything, I know my rights, you need a warrant."

"Show me your truck."

Roy silently led him to the parking lot and pointed at a blue Ford near a chain link fence.

"That's mine."

"Can you open it up?" Brass slipped on a pair of latex gloves he had in a baggie in his coat pocket.

"No, just look in the windows, you need a warrant to get inside."

Brass walked up to the truck and examined the dirty truck bed. No visible signs of blood but it had rained a fair few times since the attack. "You got a lug wrench in that tool box?"

Roy huffed and opened it, pulling out a lug wrench. "Pam told me what they hit him with so I know what you're asking."

"Don't you want to prove you didn't do it?" Brass took it with his gloved hand. It was clean to the eye. "Can I take this?"

"No. Look, just get this over with."

Brass handed back the lug wrench and planned on getting a warrant later. He had a couple more people to question first and Jennifer had only just started processing the moving van. Brass wasn't so sure he fancied the ex-girlfriend's brother for the attack anymore. He had a look in the main cab. Black carpet, black seats and a black dash was not ideal for spotting blood. He examined under the door handle too but nothing.

"How long you had this truck?"

"Couple of years."

He had to be missing something. He moved round to the passenger side and tried that door handle, hoping he'd find some trace of blood. Still nothing.

"You done yet, it's cold and everyone is looking."

Brass looked to the third floor. The entire Dunder Mifflin contingent was watching the inspection.

"Nervous?"

"Cold." He replied sourly.

Brass circled the car one more time. There was nothing suspicious other than the fact it was clean and that wasn't a crime. There were a few receipts in the doors and some chewing gum wrappers; it looked like a normal car. His gut was telling him something wasn't right. He'd have to get a warrant but he didn't have enough evidence yet.

"I'm done here." He snapped off his glove and shoved it in his pocket.

"Can I leave now."

"Yes. Oh, if anything happens to Pam I'll be coming directly for you, you understand?"

"I wouldn't hurt a hair on her head, asshole." He cursed as he stormed away. Brass wasn't so sure about the hairs that used to be on Halpert's head.

Once he was out of earshot he gave Jennifer a call.

"Tell me you have something Jenn?"

"Sorry Jim, we've only just started processing, got side tracked by a B&E, some insurance fraud job. Any luck at the vic's job?"

"You know the receptionist he was obsessed with?"

"They were screwing right?"

"Don't think so, but she was engaged, the guy works in the warehouse below the office. She broke it off just a couple of weeks before they were due to tie the knot."

"Whoa, there's a motive. He got a truck?"

"Yep, looking at it now."

"So bring it in."

"I haven't got enough for probable cause yet, was hoping some people upstairs might give me something. I've still got Toby Flenderson to question and guy called Andrew Bernard that looks like he's got anger issues."

"I don't think I've ever met a bad guy called Toby."

"Yeah, can't say I've arrested anyone with that name before."

"I'll process whatever you can give me Jim. I page you if we get anything on the van but it could be another day yet."

"Ok, I'll speak to you then, thanks Jennifer."

"No problem, Jim."

It was time to head up and see if we could get a few more fingers pointing at the blue collar worker and check out this Toby.

Back in the conference room she showed Toby Flenderson to his seat.

"What did you think about Jim Halpert?"

"Uh, he was a nice guy, used to torment Dwight a lot, didn't really take the job seriously, think he thought he was too good for it but he was fun to have around. He organised the office Olympics when Michael was out of the office one day. That was fun."

Brass noticed he used the past tense. He _was_ a nice guy. "Doesn't sound like you liked him much."

"I liked him. I let him look after my daughter a couple of times, he's a nice guy, I don't know who would hurt him."

"What were you doing Sunday night?"

"I dropped my daughter off at 7pm then I saw Karen, she left at 9.30ish and I took a bath and went to bed, my daughter's quite tiring."

"What did Karen say?"

"Told me about her family and the business. She told me that she and Jim had broken up but to be honest we all saw it coming."

"Why's that?"

"Ask anyone, Jim was so hung up on Pam he wasn't fooling anyone. I work in the annex and I knew."

"Was Karen angry?"

"Sad. Humiliated, but not angry. I can understand that, she's a nice girl."

"You like her?"

"She's not really my type."

"What about Pam, she your type?"

"Pam's really nice and sweet but..."

"But..."

"I'm not really in the right place for a relationship right now. Roy would probably kick my ass too."

"Scared of Roy?"

"Oh, that was a joke." He said meekly.

"You know I'm the police right? I'm investigating the brutal attempted murder of one of your work colleagues. You might do better to take this seriously." Brass was firm but he really didn't have Flenderson down as the type to attack someone head on.

"Sorry. You think it was attempted murder?"

"Yes. Still might be murder if he dies of his injuries within a year and a day."

"Well I wish I could help."

"Tell me more about Roy; you're the HR rep, any complaints about him?"

"Nothing official. He shouted at Jim once but that was over a year ago, closer to two."

"What happened?"

"Jim was round the desk with Pam, he walked in and saw them, started shouting about Jim 'touching up his woman' or something like that. He hasn't shouted like that since, Jim looked  
scared as hell; he kept the touching to a minimum then. It was clear he liked her though. Obvious when he booked his vacation so he wouldn't have to go to the wedding. I had to clear his vacation time."

"Roy know there was something going on between them?"

"Maybe, I couldn't say. I don't hang out the with warehouse guys."

"What about this Andy Bernard?"

"Oh Andy's taking compulsory anger management training after punching a hole in a wall. He apologised immediately but he's already got a note on file about his temper, he beat up a photocopier once in Stamford."

"He came from the Stamford branch?"

"Yeah, only he and Karen stayed on. Well, I guess not Karen now. The others quit."

"Bernard make a complaint about Jim?"

"No, but I don't think he knew it was Jim. Jim's played a lot of pranks though, usually on Dwight, I've got a whole box load of complaints under my desk. Jim once put all Dwight's stuff in a vending machine."

"You think Jim may have pushed too far this time?" Maybe it was time to take a closer look at Dwight Schrute, he has made an effort to try and direct the investigation for all of his  
over-eager helpfulness.

"I couldn't say, but both he and Pam are behind most of the office pranks."

"Anyone else make complaints about Jim?"

"Pretty much everyone has complained about everyone else at some point, it's just that type of office."

"I'm going to need to see all complaints filed against Jim Halpert. Has Jim ever filed a complaint against anyone here?"

"Uh, he complained about Pam once but he had it redacted. It was about her planning her wedding during office hours."

"Ok. Box up those files for me and I'll collect them later. Thank you."

"Um, before I go can I mention one thing?"

"Sure."

"Michael, the manager, he's going to say it's me, that I did it."

"Ok," Brass raised a curious eyebrow, "why are you so sure about that?"

"He hates me. I don't know why, he just does. I mean he really, really hates me. I have a note in my desk that if anything ever happens to me, it's probably Michael."

"He have a problem with Jim too?"

"He adores Jim, sees him as a younger version of himself. He doesn't adore him in the same way as Ryan, but that's just creepy."

"Ok, I'll take that under advisement."

Brass ushered Toby from the room and sat down with his note book. He was picking up new suspects in each conversation. At least he could scrub out Toby as a potential suspect. He could barely raise his voice let alone his fists.

He had a list of all the employees on Dunder Mifflin. He could cross reference those names with complaints which might yield a clue or two. Right now he wanted to confirm the Dwight Schrute wasn't a person of interest. He hadn't raised any red flags when they first met but the deeper he delved the more sinister things felt.

He asked Dwight into the conference room. He sat bolt upright in his chair and stared at Brass with intense focus and concentration.

"Can you tell me where you were on Sunday night and the early hours of Monday morning?"

"I was at Schrute Farms with my cousin Mose. He has nightmares when there are storms after... an incident. I was comforting him by singing songs passed down the generations, would you like me to sing one to prove my story?"

"That won't be necessary."

"Very well. Before that we were preparing for the high winds."

"You got any reason to hurt Jim Halpert?"

"Jim was insufferable but I am a hunter, I outsmart my prey, I don't attack them in an alley like a coward. If I wanted to fight Jim I could have defeated him with my bare hands."

"Did you perhaps mention your dislike of Jim to anyone who might hurt him for you?"

"No."

"What do you drive?"

"A 1987 Pontiac Trans Am."

Brass was sensing this was a dead end. "What do you think? Who's your prime suspect Dwight, you've been following the investigation, right?"

"Tommy Filippelli, arrested and charged with assault with a deadly weapon in 2003 when he ran down a man with his car. Also arrested in 2000 for assault during a bar fight."

"I know his rap sheet, so you like him for it?"

"I don't think anyone I know would try to kill Jim, I would have picked up on menacing intent and been able to protect him."

"You'd protect the man who'd pranked you on multiple occasions?"

"It's my duty as a citizen."

"Fine. Anything else you need to tell me? Details matter, I should have known about the Bernard incident yesterday."

"Bernard is weak; he couldn't do that much damage to a kitten."

"You'd be surprised how strong people are when they are really angry. He punched a hole in the wall, right?"

"That is true."

"Know what kind of car he drives?"

"A Nissan Xterra."

"That's an SUV, right?"

"It is."

"Anything else you wanna tell me?"

"I don't have anything probative for you, sir."

He believed him. "Ok, thanks Dwight."

He showed him out and was pretty convinced he wasn't involved. He'd visit this 'Mose' on the way back to the station to confirm the alibi as standard procedure.

It took another four hours to interview everyone else in the office. Everyone had a theory. A pious blonde woman believed it was punishment from God, the manager believed Toby was responsible with a vehemance that was slightly chilling and an old guy who smelled like death thought Jim was part of a street fighting gang. All in all, it was an unsatisfying and disturbing exercise. Everyone had an opinion on Jim and Pam ranging from it being one sided on Jim's behalf to Pam having a secret abortion after he left for Stamford. It was all gossip and tittle-tattle. All he knew was that it was one weird work place.

A few people pointed the finger directly at Roy and Brass would just have to hope it was enough to take his truck in and get a warrant for his house. He had to be getting close to some hard evidence and reason to bring someone in for a proper Brass Interrogation. Right now, he had some alibis to check and a new potential suspect to research.

* * *

**We'll be joining Pam again next chapter. There were so many ways I could write this chapter, including thousands of words of Michael being insane and trying to get Toby the electric chair but I wanted to keep it a little more serious. **

**Reviews are muchly appreciated, especially for feedback because I don't want the details to eat up the entertaining element which I know I can let happen. Thanks! Hope you're enjoying it so far!**


	12. Chapter 11: Home Visit

**Apologies for the delay, had to take some time off to decide which outline I was going to follow. I think I've decided (the two options diverge in a couple of chapters time) so I think I'm ready to start posting again. Thanks to Pyrofanity who gave me a little nudge not to forget this, I hate it when people don't finish stories but I never knew how challenging it was to get them how you chuffing want them! **

**Remember it's M rated so bad language and sexual references ahead.**

* * *

**Chapter Eleven: Home Visit**

Pam got to her tiny apartment and willed herself to get into the shower, even if it was for just five minutes; she needed to wash off some of the day. She planned to get changed and head to the hospital to see Jim. She'd wanted to see him on her lunch break but the presence of Captain Brass stopped her from drawing attention to herself. She hadn't been home since yesterday morning but no one noticed she was wearing the same clothes. At least no one said it out loud. Everyone was too preoccupied with Jim.

The hot water stung her cold skin until she warmed up and could take in the day. Everyone had been questioned but Roy had been the only person who had his vehicle inspected. The gossip mill ran riot after that. Pam had joined everyone in the conference room to watch the spectacle of the no nonsense Captain walking around the car. She wished she could have run down there to stand by Roy's side but instead the froze again and watched from up high while everyone whispered about Roy's temper and how he'd been jealous of Jim and Pam. They spoke like she wasn't even there. She was basically a heart breaking harlot who caused this whole chain of events that led to Jim getting his ass kicked. By now word had gotten round town that Jim was found in a dumpster but most of the details were still unknown. Pam had confided in Roy and Dwight all she'd heard from Larissa and they'd not told anyone.

It was Dwight who'd comforted her after her interview in the conference room. He'd taken her into the back stairwell a sat her down until she could catch her breath and speak again. He'd just sat there quietly and soothed her until the dots cleared from her eyes. She'd told him what Larissa had said last night but he didn't react until she told him about the dumpster and that it wasn't just a wild rumour. He had dismissed it as idle gossip. He gripped her arm so tight that she thought it might bruise. A quick look assured her it hadn't but Dwight had been incensed and vowed revenge. It was the sweetest thing in the strangest way.

She'd spent the last day going from one shoulder to another to cry on. Well, between Dwight and Roy mostly. How strange that those two were the ones she turned to.

She didn't bother to wash her hair as she didn't want to waste any more time, she could wash it in the morning. She dried herself off and put on a few layers of clothing along with a hat, scarf and coat as it was bitterly cold outside. She grabbed a bottle of water and a frusli bar from her kitchen cupboards and head for the front door when her door bell rang. She threw it open hoping to give the person short shrift so she could be on her way. Roy was stood on the other side.

"Hey, I'm just heading out."

"Were you fucking him?"

"What?" Pam's blood ran cold.

"Were. You. _Fucking._ Halpert?" His voice was ice cold and full of hate. Pam felt a little frightened. Her heart was pounding in her chest; she'd never seen him like this before. Captain Brass must have told him. She thought it was in confidence.

"No." She squeaked out. She backed up as he walked forward and into the small, dim lit entrance hall.

"You kissed him? How many times you cheat on me Pam? How many times did you make a fool of me?"

"I-I-I" Her throat felt like it was closing up.

"SPIT IT OUT, PAM! God! I thought maybe he'd been after you, maybe he forced himself on you, but you wanted it too, didn't you?" He backed her into a wall. His face was so close to hers Pam could feel his spit hit her face as she spoke. She looked sideways, fearful of what she'd see if she looked him in the eye and longing for her own personal space.

"You need to leave, calm down Roy. I-I don't feel comfortable."

"Comfortable? How comfortable do you think I felt when I was accused of trying to murder Halpert, huh?"

"I told him you had nothing to do with it." Pam finally said something to defend herself but still pressed herself into the wall of the tiny hallway, trying to make some space but getting  
none.

"But you told him you kissed Halpert! Your fucking _opinion_ doesn't matter; you gave me a fucking motive!"

"He already knew! Karen told him! I didn't tell him anything at the hospital and then he treats me like I've got something to hide so fuck you Roy! Fuck you!" Pam hated to curse but that  
felt good.

"Fuck me? You're the slut who's been sticking your tongue down Halpert's throat!" He slammed the wall next to her head. She let out a little squeak of fear. "Halpert like whores?" He growled into her ear.

"Don't call me that." She said weakly.

"Why not? That's what you are."

"Don't you think I know about you! I know about your little indiscretion at that strip club. Everyone knew you paid for 'extras' and I just ignored it. Like you're a saint, Roy." Roy eased back slightly giving Pam a little more space but not much. "Probably wasn't the only time either." She muttered.

"It only happened once and it was just a hand job." He said quietly.

"Doesn't matter now. Can you leave now?"

"I need to know Pam, did you sleep with him?"

"No. Never."

"Then what the fuck were you doing kissing him? I mean, fucking Halpert! Jim Halpert! You always told me there was nothing going on but it was a goddamn lie!"

"It just happened. Do you really think we'd be happily married? Look at us! I'm scared of you right now." She gestured towards his large, white knuckled fists.

Roy backed off completely and slumped against the wall. "I love you Pam. I would never hurt you."

Pam realised she felt out of breath and her heart was pounding like she'd been for a run. She lifted her head to look at Roy. He'd turned into a different person again, this time fragile and  
sad. She wasn't feeling particularly sympathetic though and didn't know if she believed him right now.

"I need you to leave now."

"You think that maybe Jim got what he had coming to him?"

Pam looked at him with distain and disgust. "Get out or I'm calling the police."

"You call off our wedding for him?"

"No."

"You slept in my bed last night and you're wished Halpert was there, didn't you? In my fucking bed, Pam." Roy's voice broke as he spoke making his words hit Pam a little harder than she would have liked. She hadn't thought through the implications of where she'd chosen to stay, she just needed that familiarity, to feel anchored again, so much had changed in the last year and Roy had always been there her whole adult life.

"No, please, Roy, please leave. I don't want you here anymore." She dug around in her purse for her cell but Roy made a move towards the door before she found it.

"Fine. Go cry by his bedside; just don't come to me when you want comfort, someone to talk to and a bed. You can't fuck with my head anymore. You're on your own."

"Fine. I'm sorry you feel that way." Pam made a swift move and opened her apartment door before he could. "Don't come here again."

"Wasn't planning on it."

He gave her one last filthy look and jerked the door out of her hand before slamming it as he left. Pam's legs turned to jelly as she slid to the floor and cried. She'd cried so much the last couple of days; she didn't know how she had anything left to give. She was shaking again and willed her body to calm down enough to leave but she was scared Roy would be waiting for her outside. She reached up and put the safety chain across the door, it took a couple of attempts but she finally slid the chain across and curled back up on the floor.

She'd only just sat back when her cell started to ring. She grabbed it out of her purse with every intention of throwing it as hard as she could when she saw the name on the display. She answered immediately.

"Larissa?"

"Jim's in trouble, they've taken him into surgery, his-his heart stopped. Oh shit! You gotta come."

"I'm on my way, ok, everything's going to be fine." She said as a matter of reflex. "What happened?" Pam wasn't sure who she was trying to convince, Larissa or herself. She got off the floor and head out the door, she didn't care if Roy was there, he wouldn't dare approach her right now, even if she had hurt his feelings.

"They said he was bleeding out, something about his liver or something, shit, shit shit."

"Where are you right now? I'm just getting in my car; I'll be there in fifteen." Please don't die, please don't die repeated in her head while she tried to think clearly enough to unlatch the door.

"We're waiting outside surgery. Mom said I should call you. We're on the same floor; just follow the signs for the operating theatre."

"He'll be fine Larissa; they've probably just got to stitch something up. That happens sometimes. He'll be fine. He'll be fine." She'd be more convincing if her voice wasn't wavering.

"Just get here. I gotta go."

She hung up before Pam could even say goodbye. Still shaking like she was never going to stop Pam got her car key in the ignition and sped her way to the hospital just hoping it wasn't  
already too late.

* * *

**So Pam's still not understood the gravity of how badly she'd messed with Roy's heart. Considering she spent a good few years using Jim as her surrogate boyfriend during work hours and kept Roy around even though it was clear she wasn't happy goes to show how Pam deals with men in her life. I wouldn't want to call her a user because it's not something conscious she's doing, she's not actively manipulating, but she does use them both to satisfy her needs. What she couldn't get from Roy, she got from Jim. I figured this is why Jim could****n't**** get tactile with Pam, Roy already fulfilled that need. When she was in distress, it came naturally to her to seek one of the two men she depended on to feel right again. Just like how she'd turn to Jim whenever Roy messed up. **

**I hope that makes sense. Pam's completely unaware of how she behaves and that she's been screwing with both of their heads for a long, long time. Things have reached a head with Roy and maybe Pam will start to get her head around her actions and feel a little less entitled. **

**We'll be with Brass next chapter as he goes to see another suspect about the attack or possible murder depending on how Jim's surgery goes. **


	13. Chapter 12: Critical Care

**Sorry for the delay in posting. We're still with Pam after her altercation with Roy. Jim's back in surgery and fighting for his life while very different battles rage outside. **

**Warning: I will warn that this chapter discusses some difficult issues regarding self harm. Please skip this chapter or read up to the point of leaving for the cafeteria and the last few lines.**

* * *

**Chapter Twelve****: Critical Care**

"Pam! Over here."

Pam was grateful for Larissa's familiar voice leaving the ladies bathroom even if it was obvious she'd been crying. She'd been struggling to make sense of the mass of corridors. "How is he?"

"They haven't said anything but I haven't been back in since I... since I called you." Larissa broke down into a fit of sobs. Pam wasn't sure if she should but put her arms around her anyway, letting her cry into her shoulder. She had her arms crossed protectively in front of her but she let Pam give some comfort. Pam let out a few tears too but silently, she was almost too tired to do much more than let the tears fall. "I-I can't go back in." She husked out, her throat raw from crying.

"Shh, it's ok, you don't have to right now. We can stay here for a bit." Pam led her to a couple of nearby chairs and set her down.

After five or so minutes Larissa calmed down to just few a sniffs and hitched breathing. "Mom lost it." She said sadly. "Jim's heart stopped beating right in front of her, she says she'll never get the sound of the flat-line out of her head. She's just... god, if she gives up..." She lay on Pam's shoulder again and Pam gently stroked her back. "I don't know how to help her. I don't know what to do."

"It's just the shock, she'll be ok and they'll fix him. It's not going to be easy for you all to watch but you'll get through this."

"Mom thinks this is the end, she says he should die with us, not alone on some table." She rubbed the tears from her eyes so hard it must have hurt. "What if she doesn't give them permission to do stuff, what if she tells them not to resuscitate him next time?"

"Then we'll convince her not to give up. If that's what's best for Jim."

"What do you mean 'If that's what's best for Jim'? He's still fucking alive; I'm not going to let him be murdered!" She yelled, a couple of people walking by stared before moving along. Larissa didn't seem to care and Pam was getting tired of people shouting in her face.

She took a deep breath, she couldn't lose it at Jim's sister. "All I'm saying is that he wouldn't want to get stuck like this. If he can get better then that's great but he wouldn't want to have a machine breathe for him, he wouldn't want to be stuck inside a hospital for months or even years on end."

"Fuck, shit, fuck." She cradled her own head in her hands. "I can't... I can't go back yet. I'm gonna lose it in there, I can't listen to them talk about Jim's quality of life like they're already preparing for him to die."

"We can stay here. I can go get updates if you'd like."

"No, I have to go back, Jim would make me. He was always telling me to take my head out my ass and think of other people. Right now the only people I wanna think about are the bastards who did this and make them pay. I want to do everything they did to Jim and worse."

"Yeah, me too. The detective was at the office all day."

"Really? Did he find anything out?"

"I don't think so; he's just covering everything, checking out trucks and SUVs, asking if anyone had a grudge." Pam sounded as casual as she could, the last thing she needed was Larissa hunting down her workmates, Roy in particular.

"You think it's someone at work?"

"No." Pam deliberately didn't mention the special attention on Roy. "It might lead him to someone though. We hope."

"What if they don't find who did this?"

"Give him time. If he doesn't we'll just have to wait for Jim to wake up and tell us."

"If he ever does."

"Don't lose hope, you've got to keep going, Jim needs everything we can give."

"I know, this is just so fucked up."

"Do you want to go get everyone some coffee or something? Might feel like you're helping."

"Actually that... that sounds good. You paying?"

Pam chuckled. "Yeah, come on, I'll buy some pastries too, I bet none of you have eaten in hours."

"I can't actually remember, that's not a good sign."

They made their way to the cafeteria. Pam itched to get the latest news on Jim but she felt her place was with Larissa. Jim would want someone to help her through this and she seemed a lot less hostile. At least focusing on her meant she wasn't thinking about Roy's outburst.

On the drive over she'd come to the conclusion he was right. She'd used him terribly just because she couldn't face being alone and he was all she'd known. She had lay in his bed and thought about Jim, hoping he was ok and of all the things she'd say to him when he woke. She'd hardly slept but she felt safe having Roy to talk to if she'd needed him. She'd barely thought twice about what it meant to him. Still, she'd been terrified; she'd believed she'd pushed him to the brink of physically lashing out. There had always been anger inside him; she'd never seen so much of it before. She'd have to stay away for a while, maybe apologise when the dust had settled. She'd forgive him, even if she didn't feel complete safe being alone with him ever again. She still felt a little numb but she wanted to forget. She _needed_ to forget.

They piled up two trays with coffee and pastries and brought them to the register. It was then that Pam noticed the line of blood down Larissa's arm, soaking through her cream coloured sweater. Pam said nothing at first, paid the amount owed and walked to a table. She had a strong suspicion why she was bleeding; she'd seen something like this before.

"Aren't we going back up?" Larissa asked confused.

Pam gentle tugged on her good arm so she was sat next to her. "Larissa, you're bleeding." She said calmly.

She looked down at her arm and back at Pam, obviously to gauge her reaction. "I, uh... had an old scab, I pick them when I'm nervous."

"It's ok, I get it." Pam squeezed her hand. She'd bitten her nails to the quick. "We need to get you cleaned up. Is it deep?"

"A little." She covered it with her hand and winced. The cut was still long enough to be seen either side of her palm. "Please don't tell them. Only Jim knew."

"I won't but you can't do it again, there's other ways of coping."

"What? Talking and counselling?" She sneered sarcastically, slumping down in the seat.

"Ice chips is one."

"Ice chips?"

"Yeah, hold them tight in your palm; you get the same chemical release without the cutting. My best friend in high school used to cut herself. She started after her mom died of breast cancer."

"Oh. Um, I'll try that. The ice thing."

"It's a stop gap, not an alternative. You've got to stop self harming, learn to deal with everything without resorting to that, maybe that does mean counselling or maybe you just need to let a few people in so you have someone to talk to about everything that's happening."

"I'll think about it."

"Come with me upstairs, we'll see if one of the nurses will look at you."

"I don't want to waste their time."

"We'll go to the ER if we have to, you can't get infected. You can wear my cardigan so no one sees the blood but I'll only cover for you once."

"Ok. Thanks, Pam."

"Can you lift the tray?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

They made their way back upstairs and Pam left Larissa with a nurse in a side room. Nurse Walker had been the best Pam could have hoped for. She didn't look at Jim's sister with judgement or annoyance, just smiled softly and led her away to get fixed up. Pam had given away her cardigan for Larissa to wear when she was done. Hopefully Nurse Walker would have a more professional idea of how to help her, it had been a long time since she'd faced this problem and the last thing she intended to do was enable her cutting or self destruction. She wasn't trained to deal with this alone.

Pam was now desperate to know how Jim was so didn't hesitate when she found the operating theatre waiting room.

"Pam!" Cried Betsy. "Have you seen Larissa? She should be back by now." Jim's father and his two brothers stared at her with matching gaunt expressions. Mark sat with his girlfriend in  
the corner in silence.

"Yes, she needed a little time. She'll be back through soon." Pam set down the tray. A nurse had followed with the second lot. "Coffee and food, keep your strength up."

"Smoking again?" Gerald asked, making a move for coffee and a couple of sugars. "Guess that's the least of our worries."

"I couldn't say." She smiled as if to give the impression Larissa was chain smoking rather than getting stitches. "She's ok though, she was just feeling a little overwhelmed. We talked for a  
bit. How's Jim?"

"Still no news." Betsy said. "He's already been through so much, poor thing."

"This is all part of the healing process though. The other stuff, that was destructive." Pam was sure she was over stepping her bounds but she had a sense Larissa would want her to help somehow.

"Yes, you are right, my dear." Betsy sighed, wholly unconvinced. "I'm glad you're here. I called Dwight but he said he was out of state, he'll visit tomorrow morning. He's such an odd fellow; he had no comprehension that Jim might not even be here tomorrow." She covered her mouth and muffled a dry sob.

"Mom, come on, don't think like that." Said Pete. "Larissa can't take anymore." He didn't move, he looked exhausted. Tom grabbed a coffee and forced it into his hand without a word.

"She's not here and it's the truth."

With those words said a doctor walked through, the edges of his scrubs touched with bright red blood. Jim's blood.

"He's ok, we've removed his spleen and stopped the bleeding."

Pam knew he was speaking still but that was all she needed to hear before running out and finding Larissa.

* * *

**We'll definitely be back with Brass in the next chapter as he goes to follow another lead. **

**I hope this hit the spot. The next chapter won't take as long. **


	14. Chapter 13: Anger Management

**We're off to see the Nard Dog. Let's see what Brass makes of our dear Andy. **

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen: Anger Management**

It was another long drive to his next suspect's location so Brass had gotten up a couple of hours before his shift to get a head start on traffic. Andrew Bernard was staying in a hotel just outside New York for his anger management training. He had no record, not even a parking ticket to his name and a decent educational background. Nothing else had come from his research and he had made no complaints to Human Resources about Halpert. There was a box full of complaints by Dwight Schrute but his alibi had eventually checked out. The cousin was so odd Schrute seemed practically normal by comparison. No one else had made any meaningful complaints.

Brass had gotten a call late last night that his victim had deteriorated in the night but was stable once again. He was honestly surprised he'd gotten this far, he was expecting him to be on the slab by the end of the first day.

He hoped that something would come of today's enquiries. His case against Roy Anderson was shaky at best without further proof. He'd shown a personnel picture to Mark Ellis, the friend who was the last person to see Jim before the attack, but he didn't recognise Anderson from that night. He'd seen him before though; apparently the warehouse workers drink there a lot. The owner who was there that night said Roy hadn't been there but it had been a busy night. Brass had tried for a warrant but got turned down on everything, even the truck, much to his cursing fury when he hung up the phone. His boss fancied the Filippelli brother for the crime so wouldn't issue another warrant until the report on the moving van came back. That would be done in a few hours hopefully.

The threads of this case seemed to be spilling everywhere and he was being constantly held up by the understaffed lab. He knew Jennifer was doing the best she could but this could become a murder case any second and it kept getting sidelined for quick and easy cases. He had the Filippelli brother, Anderson and now Bernard as potential suspects but nothing concrete. The hold ups at the lab were making it difficult to get warrants and time was of the essence.

He arrived at the building where Andrew Bernard was taking his class. A few polite requests later and the suspect was pulled out his 'Breathing and Calm' seminar. He was not anticipating the man walking towards him. Corduroy slacks and a woollen argyle pullover on top of a pink shirt with a complimentary silk striped tie. The soft brown loafers he was wearing didn't fit with the boot print either but he looked like the type who'd own hiking boots. He didn't look in the slightest bit intimidating but anyone armed with a lug wrench and a temper could be dangerous. There was still a sense that he was clutching at straws with this one.

"Mr Bernard?"

"Please, call me Andy!" He said cheerfully with a stiff smile. "That or the Nard-Dog! What can I do for you, my good friend?"

"I'm Captain Brass, Scranton PD; I need you to come answer some questions."

"Is my mom ok? My dad?" His face dropped.

"I'm here about one of your co-workers, Jim Halpert."

"Tuna! Biiig Tuna!"

"Sorry, what?"

"Tuna! That's my nickname for the Halperino, we're tight, like best buds, he calls me Andy or, well just Andy but it's all good. What's up with him?"

"Come with me." Brass guided him to a more private but still open area. "Can you tell me your whereabouts on Sunday evening through to Monday morning?"

"Dude, you're like totally serious, what's up with the Tuna?"

"Just answer the question and don't call me dude."

"Uh, well I went to visit my parents on Saturday because they were en route to here, they live in Montauk. I was there on Sunday night, mom baked a trout that was totally awesome and we had dessert, then we talked for a bit and I went to bed. I left early Monday to sign in here."

"Ok, I'll need your parent's details so I can confirm everything you just said."

"Why? I mean my parents would totally lie for me if I asked."

Brass cocked his head, he'd met some dumb criminals in his time but that was something special. "I'm not sure you understand the severity of the situation Mr Bernard, Mr Halpert was attacked."

His brows furrowed together in confusion, "Who'd attack the Tuna?" He asked sadly.

"He was the guy who hid your phone right? You punched a wall?"

"Oh that."

"Yes, that. You ever go to Poor Richards? Did you go to drown your sorrows about getting shipped off to anger management because of Halpert? Maybe you saw him and decided to get a  
little payback?"

"Tuna's my man! And I've never won a fight in my life, I know with the whole 'punching the wall' thing it looks kinda bad but Jim's my friend, he's totally cool. He was just messing around."

Brass assessed his clothing again. He looked like he came from money. "Bet I guy like you is well connected, you can get people to fight your battles for you. Pay for protection from high school bullies and stuff."

"My dad said I should fight my own battles. Ended up with my jaw wired shut for a bit but I learnt that lesson!" He said happily. Brass could see how much he repressed his anger. Doesn't  
make him a killer though.

"You know people though, people that could do some dirty work. You think someone with a score to settle might call them up?"

"You mean me, right? I mean I watch Law and Order and all that stuff, I have an alibi and frankly, Jimbo could kick my Cornell educated behind."

"Not if you were armed."

"Armed? Oh my god, someone shot, Jim? Someone tried to smoke the Tuna?"

If this guy was playing dumb he was hamming up big time. Brass decided it was time to test whether his distress was genuine.

"Look, Bernard, here's the deal." Brass pulled out a photo of Halpert's face that Jennifer had provided and thrust it in front of him. Bernard's face contorted in horror and turned green before he dashed away around the corner. Brass followed and found him in the men's bathroom heaving into a toilet. Brass gave him a moment to emerge.

"You should warn a dude, it's like a courtesy." He muttered.

"So, the guys you hired went a bit further than you wanted, huh?" He pressed but it felt like the battle was already lost.

"What do you want? Financial records, phone records? You want it, you got it. I'm a lover not a fighter, man."

"I'll take all that if you're offering it voluntarily. I'd like your car too, the Xterra."

"Fine. I was planning on buying a Prius, I'm on the waiting list. Is Jim going to be ok?"

"They don't know."

"Oh man. I should go visit him, he's a really good guy, I bet Karen's upset."

"They broke up."

"Oh, no wonder she didn't call. She know about what happened?"

"Yeah, I went and spoke to her and her brother."

"Tommy?" Andy snorted. "He's trouble, keyed my car and then denied it, straight to my face! He's so uncool, you don't mess with a guy's ride."

"Why'd he do it?"

"Said I was looking at Karen all funny. I mean, she's a hot tamale and I would totally hit that but it wasn't going to happen. She made that very clear; it was a no fly zone for this fly guy.  
This topgun wasn't getting clearance for the coc-"

"Yeah, I get it. You know anyone who might want to hurt Jim?"

"Everyone wanted a good piece of the Tuna, man, he's a cool guy. Even Dwight man, they'd get paired up on sales calls and they'd always come back with the bacon. They're the reason our branch leads in sales. Maybe he was a player; he's all kinds of hot, well before that." He pointed towards the file with the pictures. "I totally would, you know, if I were gay. I'm not gay. I dig chicks. I'm not into guys, no siree! I'm Nard Dog the hound dog!" He tried to cheer up but he still looked green around the gills.

"Yeah, I get that." Brass remarked dryly. No wonder Halpert decided to prank this guy, he wondered if his ring tone was as annoying as he appeared to be. "So you were out of town at the time of the attack and you didn't hire anyone to hurt him?"

"Of course not, I hope you find out who did it, Jim's a real sweet guy, even tried to help me hook up when I got to Scranton."

"You know if you did hire some guys to get your own back, you could help yourself by telling us because we will find out, might be able to shave of some years, make a deal."

"You can have whatever you want du-, uh Captain, I'm innocent of all charges."

"You know if Jim had any problem with Roy at the office?"

"Dude from the warehouse?" Andy asked before rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Roy was always coming up for sodas and snacks, thought maybe he was digging on Pam, the receptionist or maybe Karen but she was Halpert's lady of lurve."

"Anything else you think I should know?"

"Can't think of anything. Why do you think it was someone who knew him? What if it was just some dude and Tuna was in the wrong place at the wrong time? He's just a normal, slightly hotter than average guy."

"Thanks for your cooperation Mr Bernard, I'll have a few uniformed officers collect everything we need and have you sign some papers for your bank details."

"However I can help, just keep looking for the guy you did this, you didn't just Photoshop that to see my reaction did you because I know some guys who are like Photoshop demons, they can put any celebrities face on a pornstar's body and make it look seamless. Like naked perfection."

"Uh, no." Brass took the tack of just letting the guy talk; stopping him seemed like a waste of energy. He understood why no one connected the guy to the beating, he wouldn't get his  
hands dirty but he couldn't shake that nagging doubt that he would pay someone to do it for him. "I'll be in touch, don't leave the state until we've processed your stuff, ok?"

"Sure thing."

Brass left him to clean himself up and made a call from the parking lot.

"Jenn, please tell me you've got something."

"I've only just gotten in, gimme a sec..." Brass could hear the rustling of papers, "oh, sorry Jim, everything on the Filippelli brother came back clean."

"I'm gonna have a lot more for you soon, an Xterra and some financial records, but I wanna get a warrant on Anderson's Ford F-150, if I get it, that's your priority. I'm tired of dicking  
around."

"So you don't fancy Mr Anger Management?"

"Maybe if he paid someone but I'm liking the jealous ex-fiance more, you've always got to go for jealousy. Bernard... I just don't feel it. I'm gonna make some calls. You get the report in  
yet?"

"Sent off ten minutes ago."

"Great, shouldn't have a problem, bye Jennifer." He hung up and went to dial for a warrant but had an incoming call instead.

"Brass."

"Schrute. You said I should call if I had anything useful, I believe I do."

* * *

**Did Dwight discover something on his out of state adventure... we'll have to wait and see.**

**This is the first time I've ever written Andy and I'd love to know what you made of him. Too over the top? I kinda wanted to catch his nervousness and that he'd ramble a little under the pressure. He's not a guy used to getting attention from the law. **

**Next chapter shouldn't be long, see you then!**


	15. Chapter 14: Blood, Trust, Betrayal

**Chapter Fourtee****n: Blood, Trust, Betrayal**

Pam could barely sleep for more than ten minutes at a time. With Jim on such a knife edge none of them had left the little makeshift camp outside of the intensive care unit. Pam was due a shift at Jim's bedside and had called in a personal day to work.

Larissa's head lay in her lap on a makeshift pillow made from her coat. The painkillers the nurse had given her had knocked her out for a bit in the night but it had been a fitful sleep for half an hour at a time. She did a couple of shifts with Jim in the night and all had been calm.

He'd looked much the same, still swollen with the same marks all over him and far too still. The only movement was his chest artificially rising and falling. Apparently he didn't have trouble breathing until he'd fallen out of the dumpster and a few cracked ribs became broken, damaging his lungs. Each little detail felt like another bruise on her soul, another reality they all had to come to terms with over the coming weeks and months. If they got that far.

She'd talked to him but mostly about nonsense and how she hoped that maybe when he woke up they could split a pot of jello. She wanted to touch but there didn't look like there was anywhere to touch that might not hurt. He looked like he needed a shave but that would have to wait. His neck looked ok, he had a couple of bruises that started from his jaw and stretched down but for the most part, his neck looked unblemished. She focused on that untouched skin, the part of him that had somehow avoided the touch of his attacker.

"_I'm sorry about everything Jim, I miss you so much. I know you're going to pull through this because you're capable of anything. You could climb Mount Kilimanjaro if you wanted to and I'd be right beside you. If you wanted me. God I hope you do. I love you, I have for so long I just... I don't know, I just want a chance. You can say no, I hope that you don't but we can always be friends because I just can't imagine my life without you. I'll be half happy to hear you say no because that will mean you're able to say it. I just want you to be happy. You'll get through this, I'm looking after Larissa, she's holding up but you're her rock. Your women need you!" She tried a laugh but found herself crying again. _

Pam made sure she kept a watchful eye on the young woman in her unknowing charge. Noticing how long she went to the bathroom and whether she winced at being touched or moving around. She'd felt so powerless sitting beside Jim but now she could do something for him and see Larissa through this crisis. She was obviously precious to Jim so taking care of her had become her priority and she wouldn't fail. She'd fill his shoes and prove to him that he could trust her to keep Larissa safe and sane.

Jim's dad had just been by with a cup of tea and an update. He'd thanked her for looking after Larissa. He was well aware she was closer to Jim than anyone in her family so he was extra worried about how she'd handle the stress. The brunette woman in her lap began to stir with a grumble.

"Hey there." Pam chimed, thinking an upbeat tone would let her know everything was still the same or at least not worse before she could handle full sentences.

"Pam?" She eased herself up and stretched out her long limbs with a yawn. She looked a little confused as to why she was lying down. "Sorry, I'd aimed for your shoulder."

"That's ok, you kept me warm."

"How's Jim?"

"They took him off the blood transfusions an hour ago and everything's holding steady, all his stats are good. Doesn't look like he's missing his spleen."

"Good." She nodded, still waking up and looking around. "Where's everyone?"

"Tom and Pete are reading Jim the sports pages, your mom is sleeping in her car and your dad's making the morning round of phone call updates. Mark left for work a couple of hours ago."

"What about you?"

"Called in a personal day. How's your arm?"

"Sore. You mind helping me check it out in the bathroom?"

"Sure." Larissa helped Pam up as her legs had well and truly fallen asleep. "Whoa, my legs are totally not on board with the whole standing thing." Pam hobbled to the bathroom with Larissa.

"You look like hell, did you sleep?"

"A little."

"Should've given you one of those painkillers."

"I've got some herbal stuff at home, tastes like hell but it helps."

They both got in one of the larger stalls and Larissa rolled up her sleeve. "I have a fresh dressing in my purse. Then you put the same bandage back on."

Pam unravelled the bandage and gave it to Larissa to hold. She peeled back the dressing to reveal long, thin and puckered cut. It was slightly red in places. The cuts she saw back in high school were short and shallow, she never really thought about the different ways a person could choose to cut themselves. She figured there must be lots of ways. "Do you need anti-septic?"

"Um, yeah, I have some of that too. The zip-up pocket inside. Does it look bad?" Larissa was peeking through one eye.

"You don't want to look?" Pam asked, completely bemused.

"I just did it and then covered it with tissue. I'm so stupid. It's been a while since I even thought about it. I'm so mad at myself that I slipped. I couldn't handle it, Jim had gone into surgery and I thought he was gonna die, it was the only thing I could think to do to make things better." Her chapped bottom lip was trembling.

"Hey, no more tears ok? You're not going to do it again, you're allowed one mistake and you're gonna take care of this so it doesn't scar."

"Maybe it should. Maybe I need the reminder."

"What did you use to do this?" Pam wanted to know if she still had it, she could take it from her now as she had access to her purse. Pam used a Kleenex to dab some anti-septic along the cut. Larissa hissed a little when Pam pressed too hard. "Sorry."

"S'ok. I stole a scalpel, they have all the stuff to hand in the ICU. Nurse Walker confiscated it. I'm not planning anything else; you can search my purse if you want to. Jim used to search my stuff. He thought I didn't know but I just wanted him to trust me again."

"I believe you. How did Jim help?"

"Made me see a counsellor, made me talk, hung out with me, made me join these after school clubs so I'd make new friends, got me away from a bad crowd. He was a pain in the ass but he always protected me, always made sure I was doing ok at school, we'd plan pranks together and we had _almost_ the same taste in music. He'd steal anything he thought they'd use to torture Russian spies."

"Jim said that about almost every single thing in my music player except he said it was stuff they'd use in Guantanamo."

"Trust Jim to keep his insults topical and up to date." She snorted a laugh. "I miss him so much. We've never gone this long without calling or texting. It's like he's my anchor, when everything is getting to me he's always there. I feel so adrift."

"I know, you can do this though, you're strong like he is."

"Um, wanna read the last text he sent me?"

"So much." A connection to Jim, she'd read anything she could get. Pam focused and started on the self adhesive dressing. "I'll show you my last text too."

Larissa tucked the bandage in her back pocket and retrieved her cell. She scrolled to what she was looking for, "Here."

_I swear I just saw Will Ferrell but it was one of those freakishly small dogs sitting on someone's head. Somehow, my life feels more complete after seeing the dog. _

"Oh my god, that's awesome!"

"I know, I was having such a crappy day 'til I got that. Show me yours now."

"One sec... there! Lemme do the bandage first." Larissa passed her the material and Pam started wrapping.

"You're good at this. You do it for your friend?" She asked tentatively, leaving Pam the option of not responding.

"She only ever needed cleaning up and band aids. Lots of 'em, but nothing needing the hospital."

"She ok now?"

"Yup, got two kids and a husband, get's checked out for breast cancer every year."

"Good for her."

Pam finished up. "Not too tight?"

"Feels good." She pulled down her sleeve. "Thanks for the cardigan; I'll wash it before I return it."

"Anytime, it looks nicer on you than me." Pam pulled out her phone. "Here's my last text from Jim."

_Next time we do that, we need to film it. _

"I text back, 'That's what she said.' It was after the whole Andy punching the wall thing."

Larissa laughed before looking sad again. The smiles never lasted long with any of them before they remembered where they were and why they were here. "Do you think he'll ever be like that again? How could anyone be happy after what happened to him?"

"I think I'll be happy just to see him getting the chance to come to terms with what's happened." If it meant he was alive, she'd take whatever she could.

"Yeah, we should go take over for Pete and Tom, he could never stand that much time with them when he's awake, they drive him mad." Pam felt Larissa tug on her arm. "Um, thanks, you know, for not judging me or telling my parents. I still think you treated Jim like shit but I can kinda see why he likes you and... yeah, thanks for helping."

"You look just like Jim sometimes."

"Not sure if I should take that as a compliment or an insult?"

"I'll let you work it out." She smiled and gave herself a little cheer of victory when Larissa's lips quirked upwards slightly. It was enough at this point. It was just gone half past ten in the morning. "Come on, Jim needs some girl time."

They left the bathroom with their spirits buoyed and ready to face another emotionally arduous day.

"Pam."

She turned at the sound of her name. She was surprised at how the sight of one Dwight Schrute made her smile, like he was a kindred spirit. "Dwight, hey." She waved him over and turned to Larissa, "You go ahead, I'll catch up."

"He might have news about the investigation." She whispered.

"It's Dwight, I doubt it. Nothing useful anyway."

"Oh, ok. I'll see you then." She gave Dwight a little wave and disappeared in the direction of the ICU.

Pam turned attention to Dwight who was looking intense as usual. "Jim's ok, they had to remove his spleen but he's stable. It leaves him vulnerable to infection in the future but it was too damaged. You were right, he's a fighter."

"I was not concerned that he wouldn't survive surgery, I could have performed a satisfactory splenectomy."

"Good for you, Dwight." She tried to hide her sarcasm, he didn't deserve it. "Do you want to visit Jim?"

"The police have a warrant for Roy's car and to search his house for his clothes and blood evidence. He's been taken into custody."

Pam staggered backwards. She wasn't sure how she found a chair but Dwight might have had something to do with it. This couldn't be happening. "Have they charged him?"

"He's being taken to the station for further questioning; they'll hold him there in case they find anything."

"Oh god, he didn't do it, Dwight, he couldn't do such a terrible thing." She pleaded, trying to convinced the stone faced man beside her.

Dwight remained silent.

"Seriously Dwight? You think he did this?" She was incredulous, she thought of all people Dwight would realise Roy was all bark and no bite, even after last night's outburst.

"He's hurt Jim before." He said through gritted teeth, like he was biting back what he really wanted to say.

"You're talking about the basketball match? That was an accident. You were there; it was all rough and tumble." She couldn't believe his gall.

"Jim's been so obviously in love with you for years. It was pathetic to watch. How long did you think you could hide your little flirtation? Roy's a classic alpha male, if he laid a hand on Jim, it was for you."

"Don't say that! God Dwight! What the hell is wrong with you?" She stood but he remained seated, almost emotionless. She wanted to thump him for saying such a thing.

"I went to see Karen, she bumped into Roy the night Jim was attacked. She told him she was leaving and why they broke up, unaware that you and Roy had been engaged. She told him about the kissing and that she believed you had slept together."

"He... he didn't know about the kisses until after." The words felt empty as she said them.

"He lied."

"Have, have you told the police?"

"Yes."

"Oh god." She sat down again with dizziness. "He, he wouldn't, he couldn't. I think I'm going to throw up." She braced her head in her hands on her knees, trying to take enough slow breaths so she didn't lose control of her stomach.

"It's not your fault." He placed a hand on her back but she violently jerked away.

"I really don't want to hear that right now. He didn't do this." She ground out. "You've made a mistake."

"I told you I would find who was responsible."

"Well keep looking." She spat. This couldn't be happening.

"Leave." Said a different voice. Pam looked up to find Larissa shaking with rage, her fists balled at her sides. "Don't come back you traitorous piece of shit."

"Larissa please listen he didn't..."

"I don't want to hear another word you fucking bitch, get out of here before I lose it. You did this."

"No." Dwight was pulling her away.

"If you come back I'll make you regret it. Don't think I won't hurt you." She growled.

Pam knew she would and she wouldn't stand a chance against someone that angry. Larissa would hurt her.

"We need to leave Pam." Said Dwight firmly, guiding her away. Larissa stood stock still, staring her down like she could rip her limb from limb where she stood.

"Dwight, you should come back, you should be the one to tell Jim you found the bastard who did this."

"Please Larissa, I'm not even with Roy, they will clear his name, you're making a mistake." She spoke as loudly as she could through her own tears, still being dragged away by Dwight. She couldn't leave, she was meant to be with Jim right now, she needed to be with him.

"Pam, just go quietly, I'll try and talk to them afterwards but it might take a while." Everything was happening so fast, she needed time to explain but the doors were closing on the elevator and Larissa was out of sight.

"She's in trouble, Dwight, I'm the only one who knows, she's cut herself. Jim needs me to look after her." She garbled out through tears.

"Ok, I'll drive you home, you can tell me what's going on and I'll take care of everything."

"You think it's my fault."

"You weren't in that alley."

"I might as well have been, right?"

"This isn't your fault."

"He didn't do it, Dwight, you have to believe me."

* * *

**We get to see the search warran t an d question in g in action n ext chapter. Hope you en joyed this in stallmen t.**


End file.
